I was draped like a limp dish rag across our living room couch. “Just marinating”, like a old friend of mine used to say. Letting the minutes tick by with nothing better to do.
My Grandpa was living with us at the time. We were the only two home. He was probably in his room as usual. Reading or studying. Sometimes about history. Sometimes trying to learn a new language. But most often spending time studying his Bible or in prayer. He rarely ventured out except to use the restroom or get something to eat. So I was surprised and even slightly annoyed when I noticed he was standing right beside the couch. Grandpa was gazing out the front window. Something was different about him. He had that “far off” look in his eyes. His deeply creased, time worn face held no specific expression. His rough calloused hands were still at his sides. But his eyes though. They were far, far away.
Looking back I probably should have reached out and embraced him or at least placed a hand on his shoulder. But no, that wasn’t going to happen. Grandpa was not one who was easily affectionate. Neither did he receive affection very comfortably. He was one of the “Greatest Generation“. Duty, honor and country had called and he answered. He was one of the young boys that quickly morphed into brave men on the bloody battlefields of Europe and the isolated war torn islands of the Pacific. They became too hardened too fast by the atrocities they were mercilessly thrust into.
Like most of his brothers, he rarely spoke of his time “in the service”. That was how he referred to his stint in the military. He wasn’t there for a signing bonus or the promise of a free education. Nor the hope of a nice retirement. He was “in the service” simply to serve his country and serve it well.
My Grandpa was no grunt in the Army, either. I have been able to piece together a few details from his deployment to Germany. He was there at the end of WWII. Legend has it, he guarded Hitler’s top seven generals after the Nazi’s surrendered. Pretty impressive, eh? I think so.
At this moment, however, he wasn’t thinking about generals or the many medals or the accolades he had earned in the service. Like I said, he had a far away look in his eye. He was remembering. Reminiscing.
“Have you ever seen real beauty?” He asked me.
Now, you need to know something. My Grandpa had a way about asking questions. He never asked a question he couldn’t answer with a ten minute verbal essay. At times, that could be extremely annoying. Like he was testing you. Perhaps teasing you. Or giving you a pop quiz. It would drive my mom crazy.
I don’t think he meant to seem arrogant or annoying, though. He simply had information he wanted to share and asking a question in his twisted sort of way was how he started a conversation.
“Have you ever seen real beauty?” He asked.
I wasn’t sure how to answer. I was a teenager so I am pretty sure my mind went to girls. Sure, I have seen real beauty, right? I was about to find out that isn’t what he meant.
True to form, he didn’t give me a chance to respond. He just barreled right into his answer:
“When I got out of the service, I remember getting on an early morning flight out of Germany. I was on my way home. The war was over and my time was done.” (Most of our men traveled home by ship. I guess he was one of the few that traveled by aircraft.)
A soft mist clouded his eyes. He went on.
“I thought I had seen true beauty before. But I remember peering out the window of the airplane and there was the sun slowly rising into the clearest blue sky. Took my breath away. It was the most beautiful sight I had ever seen. It was a new day. Just beautiful. That was true beauty”
True beauty.
Almost twenty years have passed since that odd one sided conversation.
“Have you ever seen true beauty?” He had asked me.
True Beauty. I am sure my Grandpa had witnessed the break of dawn countless times. He was in the Army after all. Being up before dawn was a given.
What made this one so beautiful? What impressed him so greatly that, forty plus years later, that he felt the need explain it to his clueless lounging grandson? Did the sun rays bounce more erratically that morning? Were the light particles especially brilliant and breathtaking?
No, I don’t think so. It has taken me all of this time to realize what the difference was.
The difference was freedom. The oppression of the war in the European theater had finally lifted. The possibility of death around every corner was gone. The Fuhrer was dead. The Nazi regime was decimated and defeated. He and his Band of Brothers had come, spilled their blood and were now going home. Home to that wonderful ole country known as the United States of America. Home to mother, home to apple pie, home to peace, home to freedom.
That made all the difference in the world. A normal sunrise he had seen countless times suddenly became the most beautiful sight he had seen in his entire life when viewed through the lens of freedom, liberty and the promise of home.
“Have you ever seen true beauty?”
We often search our entire lives to find real beauty. Our pursuit of true joy and happiness always seems just beyond our grasp. We struggle and thrash about filling our existence with temporary highs and earthly possessions hoping to fill void of true beauty and fulfillment. To our disappointment, it is just never enough. We quickly tire of short term bursts of fleeting happiness and never feel satisfied. We long for something real something authentic. Lasting beauty, love, satisfaction.
I wish I could tell you true beauty and fulfillment could be found in your Imperfect Family. I wish I could tell you true beauty can be found in your spouse or your extended family or friends. But I can’t, because it just isn’t true. Don’t misunderstand me, you will find happiness and joy in the people around you. But it is only temporal.
No, like Grandpa, you will only find True Beauty in freedom.
But not the type of freedom that was won at the Battle of the Bulge or on the shores of Normandy. That freedom is temporal as well. I am talking about eternal freedom
Freedom that originated more than 2000 years ago with a Precious Babe in a lowly manger. Freedom that walked the dusty difficult path to an old rugged cross and a was laid in a borrowed tomb. Freedom that culminated in a glorious resurrection conquering death to bring you and I the ultimate freedom. Eternal freedom.
Grandpa saw true beauty because he could finally see through the lens of freedom. And how sweet it was.
True beauty and fulfillment for your wandering soul can only be found in a man named Jesus Christ and the freedom he so freely gives to us all.