Just a redeemed and aging veteran who loves to tell the story of Jesus. 11B10 earned at barely 18. 9E000 retired. “What a long strange trip it’s been.”
@SGTWipper1Each Less a problem as years pass but still not completely comfortable. Better if I can opt to not be where it’s going on.
Being surprised by them is not good.
As an American, every day is Independence Day. Or should be.
Not just when the fireworks light up the sky or the grills fire up on the Fourth. Every single sunrise over this land is a reminder that we are free: free to speak, to dream, to build, to worship, to disagree, and to rise.
We carry the spirit of 1776 in our bones: the courage of farmers and merchants who stared down an empire, the vision of founders who bet everything on “We the People,” and the quiet determination of generations who defended that bet on battlefields, factory floors, and neighborhood streets.
Today, we celebrate the Declaration that birthed a nation unlike any other. But tomorrow, and every day after, we live it.
We teach our kids the value of liberty. We defend the Constitution not as old paper, but as a living promise. We stand for opportunity, for resilience, and for the radical idea that no king, no bureaucrat, and no mob gets to tell a free American who they are or what they can achieve.
From sea to shining sea, may we never take this gift for granted. Happy Independence Day: today, and every day we choose to keep it.
God bless America. ❤️🤍💙
Death is a thief, not a king.
A funeral has a way of making life tell the truth. The guest book is open. Flowers sit beside the casket. The room smells faintly of perfume and lilies. People whisper, hug and wipe their eyes with folded tissues. At the graveside, someone stares at the ground because looking up would finish breaking them.
“What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes” (James 4:14).
A mist.
I make plans as if tomorrow owes me something..then I stand beside a grave and the Lord reminds me how small this life is compared with forever.
Still, for the Christian, short life does not mean small hope. The mist that vanishes here does not vanish from God. The believer who closes his eyes in Christ opens them with Christ.
I think of the saints we miss and my heart still aches. Faith does not make love painless. It teaches grief where to look.
The cemetery is the part we can see.
Christ is the part we believe.
And He has never lost one of His own.