Recently, I perused back over my photos from Papa’s and my summer excursion to New England pondering over which ones to post, which ones might give me some inspirational fodder for blog posts, which ones were worthy of sharing here in Mama’s Empty Nest.
And I found two photos that really caused me to contemplate, not necessarily because of the subjects of the photos but because of where my mind ventured while examining these pictures.
Sticks.
That’s the first photo above. Stopping inside the first visitor’s center we encountered in the state of Vermont, we observed this wonderful sculpture of a horse. I failed to write down the artist’s name and have since forgotten it, but this work of art immediately caught my eye.
The sculpture consisted of pieces of tree boughs, possibly driftwood, woven together to make the frame of the horse. Intriguing enough. But what truly caught my eye was that the lengths of wood were hand painted in a patriotic theme of red, white, and blue. And printed on the boughs were words from our country’s Pledge of Allegiance and other American patriotic works.
This piece of art once again reminded me of what a great nation we truly have here in the United States and how blessed we have been. Having just commemorated this month the 17th anniversary of the 9-11 terrorist attacks on our country, those thoughts are fresh on my mind.
Joined together like those sticks forming that horse, Americans come together and stand united even through trials and difficulties and attacks. Or at least we have always done so in the past.
Stones.
Once we finished our sight-seeing in Vermont, we traveled next door to New Hampshire – the state well-known for its granite.
We stopped at a rest area where even the curbs were made of this hard substance and I snapped this photo of a piece of granite there with New Hampshire’s state motto inscribed upon it: “Live free or die.”
Americans have always been made of strong stuff like granite. We roll with the punches and don’t give up. It’s been ingrained in us since the Revolutionary War days when our colonial forefathers refused to take any guff from the King of England. We fought hard and long for our independence from another nation and we won it.
Freedom is another blessing we possess in this country and it’s important enough to die for. At least, it used to be.
So where am I going with this? As I viewed those two photos on my computer screen, these words came to me.
Sticks and stones.
And these words followed.
“Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never harm me.”
Remember that old adage that we used to hear as children? It’s never really made sense to me because of course, if you’re beaten with a stick or a stone, you come away battered and bruised and possibly with broken bones. But words….words have so much more power than sticks and stones.
“Sticks and stones will break our bones, but words will break our hearts.” ~ Robert Fulghum
Words have the power to break us down mentally, emotionally, spiritually, even to the point of physical breakdown. And it seems to me that we Americans are throwing around an awful lot of reckless, harmful words at each other lately.
Words that hurt. Words that harm deeply. Words that incite anger, even rage. All because we don’t agree. How did we get to this point? Where we can’t calmly agree to disagree?
I no longer trust people’s words. I don’t believe the words politicians throw around. I don’t believe the words blasted across our television screens or the radio airwaves or online whether it be on social media or on various websites.
I can’t believe those words and I don’t want to even listen to them. They make me angry. They make me incredibly sad. They destroy the notion of good will to all. And if we’re not willing to stop this madness, I honestly believe we will destroy our nation.
There is only one source I can go to for words that I can believe, words I can rely on. Words that don’t decimate. Words that don’t damage. Words that aren’t full of ugliness, bitterness, and rage.
The words I can believe are written in my Bible. So often they are the words of my Savior or of his devoted Apostle Paul or of the shepherd turned king, David. Words that strengthen me, encourage me, give me hope, and fill me with compassion for my fellow human being.
And while sticks and stones could certainly break my bones, the Word of God will never harm me or you. That I can count on. And that’s what I stand upon with hope that if enough of us speak words modeled after God’s Word, we can change the direction we seem to be taking.
Our words flinging sticks and stones at each other can be turned into words of healing and hope.
“Societies aren’t made of sticks and stones, but of men whose individual characters, by turning the scale one way or another, determine the direction of the whole.” ~ Plato
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Mama's Empty Nest 
Well said Mama. In your travels have you found that the East Coast has a tendency to be in the mind frame of colonial ‘live free or die’ values that began in the 1700’s than in other areas? Out here no one really has any clue of what transpired before 1854 in America. When I referred to myself as a Yankee – thinking of Yankee Doodle, it was taken as a Civil War reference. Oops!! Was it like that also on the West Coast? We had family who fought in the American Revolution, and the history of the East saturates you with that knowledge. I was just wondering if you noticed a difference in the areas you lived in as to what their perception is of American history?
Plus, God’s word is our Bread of life. Amen.
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I think you’re on to something there. Those of us who grew up here on the East Coast (particularly those of us who grew up in the original 13 colonies) probably do have a greater sense of our country’s history. Like you, I have ancestors who fought in the Revolutionary War and ancestors who arrived here in the US back in the 1600’s. When you’re living out there in the “frontier” of our country, the history of those areas aren’t as long and I think folks tend to forget that. My favorite era of our history is colonial times and that’s why I love going to Williamsburg, Virginia, among other restored colonial areas.
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I so needed to read this today. As always your words inspire and encourage me. I love the horse made of various sticks and natural materials and the way that it speaks to so many things . Thank you as always for your inspiration.
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I’m such a visual person. I’ve come to realize it’s how I learn best along with actually doing the new task to be learned. And that visual side of me is also how I tap into inspiration. Photos spur me on more times than not. I’m so thankful that the thoughts that transpire from those sparks of creativity also inspire and encourage others. Thanks so much for always letting me know that, sweet friend. ♥
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