We spent a part of this Mother’s Day with three of our children and their families playing and picnicking in the middle of Shiloh, one of our nation’s National Military Parks responsible for holding the sacred site of the loss of so many as we once rose up against one another. We were a family between The Peach Orchard and Bloody Pond, sites of such spring beauty promising sweet harvest and utter horror as we maimed and slaughtered one another. Shiloh has always been a favorite spot of our family, many a beautiful day spent there biking, hiking, picnicking almost always on a Sunday afternoon. There is great meaning here but I struggle to bring it forth in words; something akin to dancing barefoot around the Burning Bush knowing God holds all souls including those who play on top of those who died for them.
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