On Sacrifice

On Sacrifice

Topic of the day: Sacrifice.

Though today was a balmy 900 degrees with 6,000% humidity, I’m reminded that I really have nothing to complain about. My freakishly-like-me children opted for lasagna over the traditional Easter ham and accoutrements, the sun shone, I survived Easter Mass with no lightning strikes, and I was actually able to talk to those important to me- unlike those who sacrifice on the behalf of freedom.

I do not generally write regarding my faith and religious beliefs as they are very personal and private matters to me, but I am a believer. As those of us who follow Christ reflect on His love and sacrifice for our salvation, I believe it is our duty to show appreciation and reverance for His sacrifice by paying homage to the inherent willingness of so few to secure those rights enumerated a God-given and inalienable for so many.

I am reminded of the friend who leaves behind a wife and children, sacrificing his life in exchange for another, even though he had spent years saving countless other lives.

I am reminded of the father who lives with the demons who followed him home from the other side of the world.

I am reminded of those special people who took up arms to secure not only our freedoms, but enable those who have never been afforded such to have a glimpse of what it’s like to live free.

I am reminded of those who have gone before and never expected thanks.

And I am reminded of those who spend these days of holiness and reverence away from their loved ones, unable to share that for which they sacrifice to secure.

I don’t liken any man or woman to Christ or His sacrifice, but I would be remiss to not be appreciative of what they do on today of all days.

And for that sacrifice I will pray thanks that He has afforded us such a gift.

Written by

Obsessively grammatically correct and unapologetically politically incorrect Mom, better half, friend, mad scientist, Papist, and bibliophilic conservative hippie with an internet connection.

  • Kate says:


  • We had Easter dinner at my mom’s house. My brother, the Air Force veteran, who still suffers from PTSD and the effects of Agent Orange related to his Air Force Service in Vietnam is the senior male in our family since my father, a World War 2 bomber pilot, passed in 1999. Our paternal grandfather never knew any of us except for my father because tuberculosis took him in 1928, 10 years after he was gassed in World War 1. I spent 20 years, 18 days, on active duty in the United States Army as an enlisted soldier, NCO, and commissioned officer, and currently wear a badge and a gun at work. Neither of my brothers-in-law served in the military, nor have my nephews, and I don’t begrudge them that. They are all good men who take care of their families. My grandson has a medical condition that won’t allow him to go into the military, and I’m all right with that, too.

    The thing is this: Our forefathers, and others since, sacrificed to allow us to gather openly whenever we wish to celebrate whatever religious holidays we choose, or not. So, Happy day after Easter, Passover, or just Monday, to all for those who fought, and sometimes died, “…to secure the blessings of liberty to ourselves and to our posterity.”


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