Happy Independence Day! You all had to know that I have been waiting for this moment to come since…let’s be real here…since July 5th of last year. 😆

Independence Day holds so much significance to me. It’s by far one of my absolute favorite holidays!

It’s the day we celebrate the profound courage and bravery of our Patriot forefathers. It’s the day we honor the moment so long ago that our founders broke free from the ruthless tyranny of the British Crown, and secured freedom for countless generations to come.

But here’s the deal. Many of us will get up this morning, gather with friends and family, gorge ourselves on amazing food, and blow up an absurd amount of fireworks, never giving much of a thought to how significant this day is.

We will say things like, “Happy Independence Day” or “Happy Fourth of July”, and the words will simply float over our lips, empty and shallow.

I want to take you back to that day and time, 247 years ago.

1776 saw a harsh year for our struggling fight for freedom. Our soldiers were tired of doing nothing but retreating. The Patriot citizens longed for a reason to fight. What good did it do them to fight against the Crown, if in the end, our fledgling government simply threw their hands up and bowed to tyranny? A few of the Colonies had been pushing for the break away from Great Britain for several years already. But there were still Colonies that were highly reluctant to do so.

By 1776, it had become almost unanimously evident to all thirteen of our Colonies that England had no intention of making amends to the grievous tyranny they had inflicted upon us. Independence was the only option left, and in truth, it was a move of self defense.

For too long we had been wrongfully tried for crimes we did not commit, flogged in the streets for our religious beliefs, and forced to bow to the every whim of dictators. American blood had flowed in the streets for long enough. It was time to break free.

We were a small group, in comparison to the mighty British military that ruled over half of the known world. King George and parliament had declared to be traitors all those who dared to renounce the Crown.

When our Congress met that stifling hot July in Independence Hall, literal life or death hung in the balance.

By voting to declare Independence, these men were essentially approving their own death warrants. Men had been hung by the Crown for a whole lot less.

This would forever brand them as traitors and outlaws. And let’s be real here—things weren’t looking good for our ragtag army at this point. It’d be a miracle if we won our fight for freedom.

To lose the war would result in the signers’ deaths as sure as anything. Even if they won, they would have to endure the trials and tribulations of building a government that was a “more perfect Union”.

The odds stood against them. But as Patrick Henry so aptly said in an address to the Continental Congress a short time before,

“Yes, were my soul trembling on the wing of eternity, were this hand freezing to death, were my voice choking with the last struggle, I would still, with the last gasp of that voice, implore you to remember the truth God has given America to be free. Yes, as I sank down into the gloomy shadows of the grave, with my last gasp I would beg you to sign that parchment. In the name of the One who made you, the Savior, who redeemed you, in the name of the millions whose very breath is now hushed as, in intense expectations, they look up to you for the awful words “YOU ARE FREE!”

The price of freedom meant more to them than their very lives did. Signing the Declaration was not, by any means, an easy task. Each one of those signers paid dearly for their stand.

John Hart, the Baptist signer of our Declaration, had rather a heartbreaking end to his heroic story.

Upon signing the document that forever branded him as a traitor, he took a sabbatical from Congress to go home and be with his wife, who was very ill.

His wife’s health only grew worse with the passing weeks and it was evident that she only had a short time left in this world.

By this time, he had a heavy bounty on his head. The British found out he was home, and came to arrest and hang him. He was forced to flee from his wife’s side as she was taking her last breaths in this world. She passed away shortly after, leaving their thirteen children with nowhere to go.

For months, Hart hid in the mountains and forests, living in the harsh cruelty of the elements. When he felt it was finally safe to return home, he came to find that his wife was dead and his thirteen children had all vanished.

It didn’t take long before he succumbed to his own illnesses from having lived so long out in the elements. And he died shortly after, it is said, of a broken heart.

This was a man who gave everything for our freedom. He and his family, both, paid a horrible price for liberty. Their hardships bought our freedom.

And what of the others? I could be forever going in depth into what each signer endured as a result of their willingness to sign. And some day I fully intend to. But for now, know this:

Five of our signers were captured by the British as traitors, and were tortured before they died.

Twelve had their homes and farms ransacked by the enemy and burned.

Two of them saw their sons give their lives on the altar of freedom, while yet another saw both sons captured and mistreated.

Nine of them fought and died from wounds and hardships incurred by the War.

Each one of the fifty-six sacrificed deeply for their role in signing our gift of freedom.

I am forever grateful for their willingness to stand against the tyrants and purchase our liberty with their own blood, sweat, and tears.

Happy Independence Day, my fellow Americans! Never forget what has been paid so we can be free.

A. M. Watson

Hebrews 13:8