Recently, my mother asked me, “Remember when you were young, and you used to say there would be war?” Then her voice cracked a bit… Through the phone I can hear her brokenness and she asked, “Why did you let your children join the military?”
And I, with a deep breath and silent sigh, answered with trembling truth, “I guess I hoped humanity would choose differently.”
I hoped we would remember. Remember the Garden. Remember the Word made flesh. Remember the dust from which we came and the breath that gave us life.
But still, we trade swords for tanks, plowshares for profit, truth for power, and peace… for the illusion of safety at the edge of a missile.
There is no such thing as a war with no choice. No such thing as violence without consent. We always get to decide. And too often, we choose wrongly.
And that… that is my disappointment in humankind.
Not just that we make war, but that we turn our backs on the love of God again and again reaching instead for control, dominion, and the fleeting empire of man.
I raised my sons to be honorable. They swore an oath. They wear the uniform. And still, I pray they will become peacekeepers in a world that demands warriors.
I still believe even in my weariness that we can choose differently.
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