I am thankful that there are those among us who have sacrificed dearly on behalf of us. And I ardently pray to God that I might be less like myself and more like them.

If I don’t passionately desire freedom for all of my fellowmen, it’s likely that I haven’t been sufficiently freed from my selfishness so that I might see their captivity.

Liberty isn’t free, despite the fact that we ‘freely’ disregard that fact.

Despite how utterly massive they might be, it is never the size of the arsenal nor the strength of the warrior. Rather, it is a heart bent on sacrifice that is the most potent weapon of all.

All the forces of reason combined are unable to rescue the thoughtless person who is so enamored with their agenda that they themselves are perishing at the hands of that very agenda. And in order to insure that the principled nature of this nation is not doomed to perish alongside them, we must make certain that we are not that person.

A memorial is the touchstone that incessantly reminds us that in a world of decay, great things are not held only to history. For great things always arise in the midst of great decay, for that is what makes them great.

To be ignorant of the sacrifices of others that yielded the blessings I enjoy leaves me exchanging the reality of 'blessing' for the assumption of 'entitlement.' And once that happens, I will forfeit the reality of the former which will destroy the assumption of the latter. And in what terribly dark place will that now leave me?

While we tediously check our weaponry before entering into battle, do we check our hearts? For without exception, that is the greatest weapon of all.

It is my wish and most cherished hope that God would be pleased with my legacy, that lives would be changed by it, and that the world would be immeasurably better because I was privileged to leave a legacy at all. And if perchance I am fortunate enough to have these things come to pass, I can then rest in the fact that I have lived well.