The Idea of America

Author: Megan Licious | |

“The Americans didn’t really win the war, guys. More like the British let them.” I couldn’t have counted the number of times my AP US History teacher repeated it. “The war was too expensive, too far, and too strenuous, especially with the French knocking on the back door.” It was met with chuckles every single time; however, it wasn’t only a joke. Our teacher hoped his students would never misunderstand war in America.

War is America’s life. It is engraved, carved, and embedded in her—from her foundation to her motivation, her sustenance to her reverence. No longer identifying with the King of their homeland, the colonists were led by their true King, the Savior, into battle. From the struggle was born an unprecedented document, synthesized of the truths available to the brightest leading minds. Because of these leaders, war heroes would forever have an unspoken success as Presidential candidates.

Years later, a young American boy knelt, prayed, and warred with the devil to bring the entirety of good into the world again. With it came the greatest social and technological advances the world has ever seen. World War I was trial by fire, booming the small fleet that was then the nation’s defense. World War II was the only cure to the Great Depression that had preceded it. The bitterness after the fight became the Cold War; the mistrust, the competition, the secrecy—all of them the price required by opposition for the greatest technological race of all time. The result was Sputnik, along with the Space Race. I won’t be very surprised when something of a World War III associates with the seeping of the gospel into the world.

The wars of the past had brought knowledge and experience to the great idea of America. This idea became the roots its people drew from. They became anxious with what they saw of themselves, allowing for internal wars: for justice, for equality, for awareness. All because of and for the Lord.

America couldn’t be without its fight. America is a fight bigger than itself. That’s why I love it. If you know me, you know that I always cry when I bear my testimony. In growing up, I’ve learned that it’s because of the strong love for the Savior that’s always the root of it. It wasn’t until the Pearl Harbor survivors choked me up in our 4th of July parade that I realized how grateful I am for the crash courses I took in US History and Government. Learning of the roots has allowed me to love them. What a blessed place this is.