
Today is a day of remembrance for those who died defending our country in battle.
Throughout my life, I’ve had various encounters with servicemen—not just through my relationship with them, but also through the branches in which they served. Even now, as I sit and write, I recall names, faces, and different seasons of my life. Some of these memories have faded over time; some I only hold a glimpse of. But that doesn’t mean one was less important than the other—it only means that I honored them by putting one foot in front of the other and continued to live.
I believe that at times we can lose not only pieces of the memory but also the perspective of why our loved ones went in the first place.
A soldier once told me that he goes to fight so I don’t have to.
That soldier assumed all risk on behalf of the ones he loved. And from that sacred place of surrender, he showed selflessness on behalf of people he never even met.
When a soldier makes that decision to commit himself to duty, he puts on the breastplate of righteousness. He comes into alignment with the call—much like we do as believers with the will of God. We reposition our lives through surrender. We align our desires and actions with His vision. That’s where we build trust.
A soldier goes to boot camp. There, he’s trained physically, mentally, and emotionally. He learns special skills and begins to trust other soldiers he’s never met before. That trust? It could someday mean life or death. It creates a bond. Through this process, he begins to walk in truth and purpose on behalf of his loved ones.
When a soldier completes this training, he puts on the belt of truth.
We, too, put on our belt of truth by learning who God says we are. The world—and sometimes even our own hearts—will lie to us about our lives, our past, our future, our character. Sometimes these lies replay in our minds on repeat. That’s meditation—whether holy or harmful.
So when you’re repeating the worst thing ever said about or to you, you’re literally branding it onto your heart.
That’s why Romans 12:2 says:
“Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind…” (ESV)
You guys—it’s not just a good verse. It’s a lifeline.
In boot camp, a soldier also learns his weapon. He trains in how to clean it, carry it, use it—even eat, sleep, and yes, poop with it by his side. That weapon becomes part of his daily routine. Without it, he’s an easy target.
Once a soldier understands his weapon, he has taken up his sword of the Spirit.
As believers, our sword is the Word of God. We equip ourselves through reading, study, memorization, and prayer. The book of Psalms? It’s an amazing prayer manual. The psalmist pours himself out in every emotional state—from being hunted down in caves to becoming king… from deep grief to victorious praise.
Prayer also teaches us how to discern the voice of God. We can talk to Him all day long, but if we’re not listening for His reply, we’ve got a one-sided conversation. That’s a breakdown in communication—and it puts us out of alignment with His will.
A soldier goes through field training—live scenarios designed to simulate combat, test endurance, and build unity. In the field, communication is life or death. A breakdown can mean friendly fire, lost control, or wrong targets.
But when communication flows, the bond deepens.
This, dear friends, is what we as believers call prayer with Jesus.
When your prayer life is honest and open, a deep relationship forms. You learn to hold your post. You discern His voice. You spot the enemy’s schemes.
And when that happens, your Seven-Star General (yes, Seven) is standing beside you.
Do. Not. Move.
Hold your position.
Hear the Word in 2 Chronicles 20:17:
“You will not need to fight in this battle. Stand firm, hold your position, and see the salvation of the Lord on your behalf, (insert your name). Do not be afraid and do not be dismayed. Tomorrow go out against them, and the Lord will be with you.” (ESV)
Now, on a soldier’s battlefield, holding a position isn’t easy. It’s not comfortable. And it may still come with casualties. Only a soldier in the fire knows what it takes to mentally stay planted when death is all around him.
But when the order is clear—no mystery, no confusion—you don’t become insubordinate. You obey the command. You proceed with courage because you trust the one who gave the order.
At that moment, soldier, you’ve put on your shoes of peace and your helmet of salvation.
We believers do the same when we share the story of Jesus and how He changed our lives. Is it easy? Nope.
Is it scary? Definitely.
Is it lonely and uncomfortable sometimes? Absolutely.
Do we give up? No.
Because our Seven-Star General doesn’t give up on us.
Do we have an enemy? Yes.
One who doesn’t rest, even while we sleep, he attacks.
So how do we withstand the attacks?
We dig into our training. We hold our position using our shield faith.
For a soldier, there are times when you can vividly see your enemy and their attacks. You hear the gunfire, the mortars—you see the friends taken before your eyes. A soldier once told me that when he went to war, what kept him going wasn’t what was in front of him, but who was behind him. This soldier, is what it means to use your shield of faith. You stop letting your eyes define what’s real, and you choose instead to focus on what you know to be true.
Today I reflect on the soldiers God wove into my life.
I’ve seen war take one of them. He came home, but not the same. A different battle raged inside him—maybe one that began before he ever set foot on the battlefield. Maybe war didn’t cause it… just awakened it.
Only he and God know the truth.
So I know—we have soldiers out there who came home in body, but not in peace. The field has changed. The unit is now one: a soldier and his God. The enemy is closer than ever—more intimate, more personal.
And I just want them to know:
You are not alone.
But the lifeline that brought you back from the war—isn’t enough now.
You need the Source of Life.
His name is Jesus.
“I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.”
—John 8:12 (ESV)
You are loved.
You showed courage, loyalty, integrity.
You served with selflessness—boots on the ground in my place.
You fulfilled your duty with honor.
You earned the right to be applauded every time they say “stand.”
You showed leadership.
And you were saved that day for a purpose.
Don’t give up. Hold your position. Lean into Jesus. And live.
That’s how we honor those who didn’t come home.
As for me—I’ve never received that knock on the door. I’ve never seen my soldier return in a flag-draped casket. I’ve never cried out all the “Why him?” questions at God’s feet. My heart aches for those who have. To you—I say this:
Remember them.
Honor them.
Not just the death they died, but the life they lived—for you.
God bless.
I honor the soldiers of my life by name:
Sally, Jack, Casey, Thadus, Steve, Cooper, Sebastian, Ben, Ryan, Phil, Abe, Jeremy.
Hats off to you, Soldier.
You are seen.
You are remembered.
You are loved.
And your name will not be forgotten.
Prayer
Lord Jesus, please open the eyes of the soldiers and help them become more aware of the alerting areas in their lives they need to step into. As they become aware, Lord, I pray You will guide them in the steps they must take. Teach them to be more watchful; fill them with wisdom and discernment so they will not be overtaken or defeated. As they stand firm in the watchtower You have appointed them to, Lord, do not let them neglect their duties. Please equip them to hold fast in the gap so it cannot be breached. In Jesus’ name, Amen.
Not a place for the perfect—just the honest. We’re broken. But He walks with us. And that changes everything. We are all cracked, called, and carried by grace.