Some things are too sacred to summarize.

Today isn’t about barbecues or sales or long weekends. It’s about names. Sons. Daughters. Husbands. Fathers. Friends. People who didn’t come home.

It’s about the silence left behind when a folded flag replaces a voice.

It’s about a kind of courage I’ve never been asked to display—a sacrificial love that mirrors the gospel more than we often realize.

Jesus once said, “Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends.” (John 15:13)

Many lived that out with boots in mud and fear in their throats.
They carried weight so we could carry freedom.
And they died with names we don’t know, for a nation we often take for granted.

So today, we pause.

Not to glorify war.
But to honor the fallen.
To grieve with those who grieve.
And to give thanks for a kind of love that lays itself down.

And as we do, we remember that every lesser freedom points to the ultimate one—bought not with bullets, but with blood.
The freedom Jesus secured when He laid down His life… not just for friends, but for enemies.
For us.

So thank you—to the ones who gave all.
And to the families who still carry that cost.

We remember. We reflect. We give thanks—for freedom, for sacrifice, for a love that laid itself down.