Today, America celebrates 250 years of freedom.
As I sit here reflecting on what that means, I realize that the word "freedom" is something many of us use so often that we sometimes forget just how precious it really is.
I am thankful that I live in a country where I can open my Bible without fear. I can bow my head in prayer at a restaurant, attend church every Sunday, speak openly about my faith, and share God's Word with others. I can travel where I choose, voice my opinions, cast my vote, and enjoy countless liberties that generations before me fought to preserve.
Those freedoms became even more meaningful to me in 2009 when I traveled to China on a mission trip.
It was a beautiful country filled with wonderful people, but it was also a sobering reminder of what life is like without the freedoms we often take for granted. As we walked through the airport, soldiers carrying machine guns seemed to be everywhere we looked. Their presence was impossible to ignore. I remember thinking how different it felt from home.
We were careful about where and when we talked about our faith. Something as simple as openly reading my Bible or praying in a public place could have brought unwanted attention and potentially serious consequences. It made me appreciate, in a way I never had before, the incredible blessing of religious freedom here in America.
That experience forever changed my perspective.
Today, I also find myself thinking about the men and women who have worn our nation's uniform. My own family has a rich heritage of military service, and I have always been proud of that legacy. Today, my grandson continues that tradition as he serves in the United States Army. Knowing he is willing to stand in harm's way to help protect the freedoms that so many of us enjoy fills my heart with both gratitude and pride.
Freedom has never been free. Every liberty we enjoy has come at a tremendous cost paid by brave men and women and by the families who stood behind them.
This Independence Day also brings sweet memories of my daddy.
Daddy was born on July 2, and he loved to tell everyone he was "almost a firecracker." Every year, the Fourth of July was one of his favorite holidays. He couldn't wait for the fireworks. M-80s, Black Cats, bottle rockets, you name it, he loved them all. His excitement was contagious, and some of my happiest childhood memories are wrapped up in family gatherings, cookouts, laughter, and watching him enjoy every loud boom and brilliant burst of color lighting up the summer sky.
Every Fourth of July, those memories come rushing back, and I can't help but smile. I can almost hear his laughter and imagine him grinning from ear to ear as another firecracker exploded.
As we celebrate America's 250th birthday today, with family gathered around the table, hamburgers on the grill, homemade ice cream, flags waving proudly, children laughing, and fireworks filling the night sky, I hope we will pause for just a moment to remember why we celebrate.
May we never take our freedoms for granted.
May we remember those who sacrificed to secure them.
May we pray for our nation, for our military, for our leaders, and for future generations.
And may we always thank God for the incredible blessing of living in a land where we are still free to worship Him openly.
Happy 250th Birthday, America.
God bless America, and may God continue to bless the land that I am proud to call home.
