while sitting in church yesterday I glanced down at the ledge attached to the pew in front of me and found etched into the wood the words '1939 D.K' after getting over my initial shock of this writing now being over 70 years old, I began to wonder about D.K's life. Did he make it to 2011? was he sitting with me in this church today? What about the war, if he was around 16 when scrawling this on the pew then he probably would have been called up. Did he survive? where did he fight? the questions go on. A little to the left of this graffiti is another date '64'. I like to think D.K. survived the war and returned again to leave his mark. However, the hand writing is different and it is nameless. maybe D.K never even made it passed the year 1939.
I'm writing about this because it struck me that day how fleeting life was. Here was a boy (or girl) on the verge of war not knowing what was coming, how many would die or that it would last the next 5 years of his life. Now he was gone, quite probably dead before his name even had time to be worn away from a church pew.
Hank Green commented yesterday how 'we are remembered as a collective', not for our individual achievements but what we achieved or failed to achieve as a body of people' this is true on human levels. no one will remember D.K. no one knows his full name, his job, rank or hair colour but we will remember the collective who fought and lived through world war two for ever.
I said above that it is true on human levels. This is because I know that my God remembers every single detail about every person that ever lived. In the bible there are hundreds of names and genealogies just screaming to us 'God knows you. He does not forget'. there is no fading into he background with him.
If D.K followed Jesus Christ and trusted that he died and rose again then he is not dead but alive right now with Christ. Maybe one day I will get to meet him.
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