The price of freedom

I see lines of crosses standing along the hillsides of Normandy, Arlington and many other revered sites that are now the final home of courageous men and women who have given the Last, Full Measure for their brothers in arms, their families and their country. Each cross a silent witness staring back at me as testimony of the self-sacrifice of these soldiers, sailors, marines and airmen for me.

Every one, a young man who thought it worthy to give their life for mine.  For the price they paid, I’m forever in their debt.  Their memory will not die.  Every time I see the Stars and Stripes blowing in the wind or gaze upon these crosses, I will remember. When I see the flag waving, tattered and torn over field guarded by soldiers in camouflage or a broken NY building, I will remember.
I will never forget.

It is an honor to have served in the USAF in the shadow and alongside such great witnesses to the cost and value of freedom.  I remember the pride swelling in my heart as I would put on my dress blues, my ribbons proudly and humbly upon my chest.  The honor guard on which I served was a great service and tribute to those who walked through sand, mud and jungle before me. 
I could feel my chest swell in pride singing ‘God Bless the USA’ as my friends and I checked our uniforms and shined our shoes before a parade. I felt myself stand taller and step crisper as Old Glory blew over my head in parade snapping in the breeze. I once saw an elderly man wearing a WW2 hat stand from his wheelchair to salute her and we marched past. Whom was he remembering? I fought tears of pride and sorrow for his fallen comrades.

Freedom isn’t free!

The sounds of battle…from the hot desert in Arabia where I served with some of the greatest men and women I’ve ever known. Courage wasn’t thought of, just duty to the one beside you. Because we were the best no doubt or worry, just do what needed to be done and go home. Some didn’t.
When I look upon our nation’s flag, hanging at half mast in a tribute of honor for those who fell to give her the chance to fly – to stand for freedom. I will never forget.

“There is no greater love than to lay down one’s life for one’s friends”. John 15:14

I think of another site with a cross just outside distant city gates.  This cross was not of white marble but of blood-covered wood.  The man on this cross no less the hero. He gave His Last, Full Measure in a battle many would never realize.  In a war which you hear so little of in today’s news or among those in the world – in many circles it is taboo to even mention.  Few gave honor to the Man as the cross was raised. The  Father watched in silence as Heaven’s Finest Soldier clothed in human flesh took His last breath.  No honor even in death, nothing but a spear to spill the last of His Sacred Heart upon the ground – Blood and Water poured as final testament to His Love and Mercy. No taps played in sorrow, no honorable 22 gun salute – silence.

And for the price He paid, I’m forever in His debt.

The cross will never die.  Every time I look upon a cross, or a crucifix in a church or gaze upon the crucifix relic hanging around my neck, I will remember the price Jesus paid for my soul. Every Sunday Mass, Easter and Lent, every visit to the Sacrament of Confession – I will remember.

And more than marching in that honor guard in my full USAF blue uniform, or holding the Stars and Stripes during the Star Spangled Banner or taps, I stand with pride beneath the cross on which my Lord paid the ultimate price.  I have and will dedicate my life to the glory of the One who had to die that I could live in freedom.  I will live my life to honor Him Who Gave me life.  I live my faith openly as I wore those ribbons on my chest and if no one other look to Him, I will live My faith for no one else but me.

In God’s Divine Mercy is freedom!

Freedoms is not free, freedom is never free!