Too Many Boots …
After much thought and prayer, I took my children to see the “Eyes Wide Open” exhibit in Memphis this weekend. “Eyes Wide Open” is the American Friends Service Committee’s widely acclaimed exhibition on the human cost of the Iraq war and commemorates all the lives lost. The display is very simple - boots and shoes. When the exhibit started, it travelled with one pair of boots to represent each soldier lost in the conflict in Iraq. Now the number is too large making it impractical to display. When I saw the exhibit in Memphis there were 390 pairs of boots representing the part time men and women lost from our National Guard and Reserve forces in Iraq. There is also a display of civilian shoes representing the civilian lives lost in the conflict.
Frankly, I was a little concerned about how this somber and sobering display might affect my children that day. I came to the conclusion that I was more concerned about how being a non-thinking adult citizen of our country might affect them forever. Whether you agree or disagree with this war, the cost is real. I spoke with my children before we arrived at EWO and told them that Jesus told us to count the cost (Luke 14:25-34) of our actions. I also told them that whether or not you supported this war, you must support the troops that carry it out. To those of you that think that can’t be done - watch me. I have many friends that are members of our military and I support each and every one of them as well as all the ones I don’t know. These folks signed on and made a commitment to carry out their orders. My unwavering support of every single soldier is not dependent on me deciding whether the commander in chief issued the right orders.
I explained to my kids that if they consider all the facts pertaining to this war and arrive at a different conclusion than I do, I’d respect that - as I would the opinion of anyone else in this country who thinks. My problem is that too many folks are along for the ride and not thinking at all. Believing what you hear on television doesn’t count for thinking for yourself. I find it interesting that 18,000 people will stand and applaud for a returning soldier and his family at a NBA game (as well they should - and I did), but 10 of them won’t come to EWO to pay their respects to the dead.
The exhibit itself is very powerful and moving. It’s hard to stand amongst those boots and not picture a room full of 400 live people. Each pair of boots is tagged with the name and rank of a dead soldier along with their age and where they were from. I walked around the room for a bit and prayed for each of the people represented there as well as their families. I also found myself praying for my country and it’s leaders.
As I roamed the room I couldn’t stop looking at the faces of my children, as they were clearly touched by what they saw. My oldest has a “boyfriend” (she’s too young to really date) whose father is fighting in the Army as I write this. My middle child just looked stunned and sad. The one I had the toughest time with was my son. He’s old enough to understand death but too young to understand politics. It looked as though he felt compelled to read the name on every name-tag in the room. As he walked among the boots I couldn’t help thinking about how I might feel as little as eight years from now if he were off fighting this war. I assure you that I’d be proud if he served and even understand if he gave his life for his country. I wouldn’t however, feel good about him laying it all down for an unjust war. How many of the folks represented by the boots I saw have parents who wonder if the cause was worth the sacrifice? The image of my son standing among those boots was very moving and caused me to think about things I’ve never really considered. I wonder if the creators of the exhibit even thought about having a son stand in a sea of boots while his father considered what that represented. I had the luxury of walking out with my son while the rest of the sons and daughters in that room lay in rest never to walk with their earthly father again.
As we prepared to leave I asked each of my children what they thought about EWO. My oldest daughter was without words. My son remarked about how sad it was. But my middle child summed it up better that I could ever do it. With a tear in her eye she said “It’s too many boots dad …”