The Wound Will Not Easily Heal

Have you ever had a moment when you said something that you thought was really profound, but no one listened to you?  Like you knew what you were saying was true, but everyone else in the room thought otherwise?  Then an event happens, and it proved you were right.  If that has ever been you, do I have a story to tell.

So, it’s January 20, 1775.  In the House of Lords meeting at Westminster, the members are conversing about how to quell the colonial rebellion that is fomenting an ocean away.  In the midst of the crowd, an elderly man stands to speak.  But this is not just any man.  He is a man with a rich history.  Just a few years earlier, he was one of the most brilliant strategists for England during the Seven Years War, which for all intents and purposes, was a world war before we ever thought to call one that.  From 1754 to 1763, more than 30 countries, states, powers, and principalities fought for six years, eight months, four weeks.  If you are a kind of person that deals in absolutes, is a perfectionist, and who is all about the details, right now you may be asking yourself why is it called the Seven Years War when the fighting only lasted for six years, eight months, four weeks?  Probably because one is easier to say than the other.  And if that mind of yours was really paying attention, then I wasn’t able to slip one by you, because you did the math and realized that 1754 – 1763 is actually nine years.  You would be correct.  So, to recap, it’s called the Seven Years War.  The real fighting lasted six years, eight months, four weeks.  The actual timeframe for the war was nine years.  Makes perfect sense, I know.

Now that we chased that rabbit, let’s get back to the story.  The man standing is William Pitt (who looks nothing like Brad), Earl of Chatham.  During the Seven Years War he was a chief military planner for Britain and its push for territorial dominance.  His sole vision was victory over France, the primary enemy of the English crown, and in many ways, it proved a success.  So, when he stands, the members of the House focus on him.  Pitt is the 18^th century E.F. Hutton for those that remember the late 1970s tv commercial.  He speaks, people listen.  He’s about to say something inspirational that will drive the nail into the coffin of the colonists’ discontent.  His words will surely end any plan of rebellion by that ungrateful bunch.  All eyes and ears are on this brilliant man.  And he says this, 

“All attempts to impose servitude upon such men, to establish despotism over such a mighty continental nation must be in vain.  We shall be forced, ultimately, to retract.  Let us retract while we can, not when we must.”  He continued, “My lords, there is no time to be lost.  Every moment is big with dangers.  The very first drop of blood will make a wound that will not easily be skinned over.” (Rick Atkinson, The British are Coming, 20)

I don’t want you to miss that.  He doesn’t say full charge ahead.  He encourages leaving the colonies.  You can almost feel the disbelief of those in the room.  One guy turns to his right, and asks, “Is this the William Pitt I’ve heard so much about?  The military genius?”  Yes, it’s that guy.  The one who led his nation’s successful strategic plan over France and her allies, who was all in for seven years of fighting, which if you recall was nine years, but really six years, eight months, four weeks.  Yeah, that guy.  He had no desire to go to war with the colonies.  He opposed the heinous acts the crown forced on the Americans thousands of miles away.  In his mind, if England went ahead with its plan, it would not end well.  The wound inflicted will not easily be skinned over.  After his speech, which lasted over an hour, a vote was taken, and Pitt lost.  Seventeen others sided with him, but 68 voted to keep British troops in Boston.  Four months later Pitt’s words rang true.

At the battles of Lexington and Concord, the “shot heard round the world” started in motion a growing rebellion that, had Pitt survived to the end of the war, he no doubt would have reminded his countrymen that he had petitioned against war with the colonies, a kind of “I told you so.”  I can imagine when it became apparent to King George that the colonists were not going to submit quietly, he might have suffered some regret at the decision he ultimately made.  But what could he do?  He could not reverse course and succumb to these “rebel scum” (apologies to the Imperial Commander on the forest moon of Endor for stealing your line).  Alas, if only they had listened to Pitt.  Wisdom was disregarded.  Experience brushed aside.  And here I am typing this out on my computer enjoying the freedom those rebels fought for.  You tried Mr. Pitt.  Thank you for that.

You know, we are too often guilty of what the British Parliament did.  Ignore the one in the room who probably knows better than anyone else.  I can tell you from personal experience of what it is like when you ignore the wiser person in the room.  For more times than I can count, I have ignored the author of wisdom and followed my own advice…and it never turned out good.  I ignored what God wanted to tell me, the direction He was leading me in, the goal He wanted me to obtain; and instead chose my own path.  I was the crowd not listening to Pitt.  Then I was King George wishing I had never followed my own advice, but then believing there was nothing that could be done.  But God said otherwise.  Every. Single. Time.  I’ll close with this, because it doesn’t get any better; “I waited patiently for the Lord; he inclined to me and heard my cry. He drew me up from the pit of destruction, out of the miry clay, and set my feet upon a rock, making my steps secure.” (Psalm 40)