Who's really paying for my vacation

While on this trip, complex individual thoughts involving stewardship, our military, and freedom have been mingling in my mind a bit. Not only due to the fiery fight I, in concert with a bevvy of similarly devoted friends, are waging in effort to return one of our Iraq-deployed soliders home to his suddenly seriously ill, hopsitalized wife. But also because I am aware, particularly sharply from this vacation-induced-basking-on-white-sand-beaches perch, that I am actively relishing in the freedom that is afforded me by the wages of others lives.

Regardless of our individual opinions on the nature and worthiness of the current theaters of conflict and war our military is engaged in, when an American solider dies in battle, that loss is personal on a national level. Each solider's life should matter soberly to us all and be borne by our collective hearts, should it not? That men and women (often so young it makes the heart ache) are dying in combat right now, as part of the ongoing effort to protect and ensure the very freedoms I am enjoy every day, but am especially aware of on this holiday, humbles and moves me beyond expression. I struggle with how possibly to honor such a gift.

But the people in the small Texas hometown of this fallen solider (thanks to The Wife for linking to this story - see "If Only") come doggone close to honor, respect, and utter thanks as it should be expressed by us all on such an occasion.

My heart and heartfelt appreciation extends again today to EVERY SINGLE member of our military, all branches, all levels, at home and abroad. Thank you. Our freedoms are purchased with the currency of your lives and the courage of your character.

God bless you.