I never really understood the significance of this day growing up. I didn’t get the impact that veterans had on our country. Of course I heard about their sacrifice, but I didn’t really get it until I grew much, much older. It was so easy as a youth to get caught up in the tales of war and not see them as a depiction of reality. They just seemed so…commercial. War wasn’t real to me.
Then I turned 23 and watched a few months later with the world as the Twin Towers collapsed in New York. I sat on my apartment floor and sobbed. My heart broke in two for my countrymen who I knew perished. But it also shook with fear for at that very moment, my brother was stationed on a supply ship in the Persian Gulf. Everything was uncertain and I have never felt such fear.
And that’s when war became real to me. It’s also when I realized that our military men deserve every ounce of respect we can muster. Earlier this year as I stood in line at the airport to fly to New Orleans, a soldier on crutches stood behind me. It only felt right to let him take my place in line. After all, he was placing himself in harms way so I could have the freedom to stand in that line. I found myself increasingly frustrated, however, when the two families in front of me did not let him move to the front. They saw him standing there. He was in full uniform. And he was on crutches. I wanted to apologize to him for them.
I am so deeply proud of this country and the men and women who stand in harms way for us. To any of them who may be reading today, including my brother, sincerely, from the bottom of my heart, I thank you. Thank you for protecting me and my family. Thank you for your sacrifice. And I thank your families as well because they sacrifice just as much. I honestly can’t find the words to express just how much gratitude I feel…and that’s saying something because me? I’m rarely speechless.
To read about Veteran’s Day from the perspective of a veteran, visit this blog written by our dear friend, Jeremy.
Happy Veteran’s Day.
This day holds another significance for me. Today is my grandmother’s birthday. Mimi would have been 80 today. Instead of celebrating with us, however, she’s dancing at the foot of the King and has been since March of 2003. All I can say is I can’t wait to get to heaven to see Mimi dance because for as long as I was growing up that was not an activity she condoned. I want to see her shake her groove thang on the streets of gold.
I so wish that Mimi were here with us. I wish she could have met Tia and Landon. I wish she could have come with my mom and I to her beloved Turks and Caicos islands last year. I would have loved to hear her talk about her years there as a young mom and missionary. It would have been nice to hear more of her stories. I appreciate her so much more now that I am a mom myself. And I miss her.
Thankfully, I have some of the journals she kept during her years as a pioneer missionary in the Carribbean. They are a window into who she was as a young woman and I love to hold such a precious key to my past.
I am so proud of the heritage that has been passed down to me through my grandparents and parents. I am proud of all of my family. They are living out the Great Commission every single day literally all over the world. I couldn’t be more honored to share DNA with such a fine group of people.
Today’s post is dedicated to Mimi, a woman whom I admire, respect, miss and love. May I pass the torch of faithfulness to my own children, just as it has been passed to me.