Saturday I watched - from the commander's window overlooking the base - a hearse carry home the remains of Marine Captain Trevor J. Yurista. It brought back, with more force and suddenness than I was ready for, memories of my years as a chaplain at Dover AFB, working in the mortuary and praying for families over flag-draped coffins. Thoughts of Capt. Yurista's family and the apparently great life he lived combine with hundreds of versions of the same story where I played a role greater than that of observer. These memories force me to vote. To not vote would be to personally dishonor every fallen soldier our country ever lost. Our right to vote is protected and provided by God through our military, that and every other aspect of American life covered by the Constitution. No military, no vote, no America. I'm sure not everyone feels this way, but I can't help it. I am reassured by the fact that Jesus Himself held military members in such high regard, as they did Him. As I voted and then watched Shannon vote, I held Kelsie (soon 3 years old), who watched in wonder. I told her how important it all was, and that she was an American. Voting would someday be her privilege and responsibility. Her attention was then captured by the playground she saw through the window of the polling station and there we went.
God bless America.
