Yes, that’s the book for me
November 6, 2009 (Friday)
Howard Rutledge died of cancer at age 55, in 1983, ten years after his release from a P.O.W. camp in Vietnam, where he was captured November 28, 1965. After his release from prison, he wrote of his experiences, and many were blessed as they read of how he and his friends found comfort in prison by reconstructing in their minds many verses of Scripture and words of old hymns and choruses from their childhood in church.
In a 1973 article in “Christianity Today,” a journal of religion, he wrote about how he offered thanks before every meal during his captivity, even when the meal was a bowl of sewer greens. In the past, before living in “Heartbreak,” he was too busy for church, working and playing on Sundays. Now, with death all around him, in solitary confinement, he thought much about life after death.
Raised in Sunday School, he was taught many things about God that he later left behind, or so he thought. All alone in a dark, damp place, he longed for spiritual food for his soul more than physical food for his body. So he began to recall what he had learned as a youth at church. He began to remember snatches of the Bible and hum silently old hymns and choruses he thought he had forgotten. With his companions in prison, together they shared with each other what they could recall. In time, they had enough spiritual resources to see them through, a day at a time.
Other prisoners of war in Vietnam had similar experiences. Several wrote of those days when what they had thought was unimportant became the most important things in their lives: verses of Scripture, stanzas of hymns, happy choruses of faith.
Let us never underestimate what we were taught about God when we were children. It’s mighty important.