Today, on Memorial Day, the word “service” can become overused. We think of something over and done, given away and forgotten about, offered and then, somehow, completed. Perhaps, for a few, that is the way it is. Service is simply a contract, to be made and broken off like any other.
Yet for so many people, it is more than that: it is a covenant. It’s their commitment to America before the uniform is ever worn and before anyone even knows; it’s the sacrifice of changing everything in order to keep the greatest things the same; it’s the understanding that an individual can make a difference among the mass of a thousand. Such covenants are not broken; once made, these men and women serve America for the rest of their lives, long after the uniform has been hung up for the last time.
They have a vision, perhaps clearer than ours, of the glory of a greater land, a heavenly country, a city on a hill, and their longing for such a land is the fire that burns within them. Their covenant is an unconditional dedication that remains no matter how it is rejected and is an undying hope that lifts up when all else fails, because it is based on something deeper: an inherent knowledge within every human soul of honor, of hope, and of glory.
So, today, to my grandfather and my grandmother and to all in covenant service to America—thank you.
They have a vision, perhaps clearer than ours, of the glory of a greater land, a heavenly country, a city on a hill, and their longing for such a land is the fire that burns within them. Their covenant is an unconditional dedication that remains no matter how it is rejected and is an undying hope that lifts up when all else fails, because it is based on something deeper: an inherent knowledge within every human soul of honor, of hope, and of glory.
So, today, to my grandfather and my grandmother and to all in covenant service to America—thank you.
