Our flight was delayed—eventually cancelled. The rush to get everything done with work and home in order to get out-of-town had left us exhausted, so standing in a long line to be re-routed was a bit of an exercise in patience. It would be twenty-four hours before we could catch another international flight, so we were disappointed (to say the least). But one of the ladies in front of us was crying over it all. . . .

One of the joys of traveling and meeting with military families is hearing the stories of how they are raising their children during these tumultuous times. Many of our families are being very intentional—making sure that their Christian faith is lived out as a priority no matter the demands of military duty. It is very encouraging, and humbling, to see this current generation of service members and their spouses being so diligent to teach the ways of the Lord to their children . . .

The story goes something like this: A military family has just arrived at their new duty station. They’ve settled into temporary quarters and have begun to look at housing options. The mother takes one of the little children with her to the commissary where the commander’s wife spots her and decides to check on how the family is doing. In the course of the conversation, she asks, “Have you found a home yet?” The child answers, “Oh, we have a home—we just haven’t found a house to put it in!”

On the wall of my father-in-law’s office hangs a small piece of paper framed as an important document, yellowed with age. On this paper are these words: "You are about to embark upon the Great Crusade, toward which we have striven these many months. The eyes of the world are upon you. The hopes and prayers of liberty-loving people everywhere march with you. In company with our brave Allies and brothers-in-arms on other Fronts, you will bring about the destruction of the German war machine, the elimination of Nazi tyranny over the oppressed peoples of Europe, and security for ourselves in a free world . . ."

We were in a sparsely-populated area of Maine having dinner at a local cafe, and had the privilege of talking with our waitress about her experience with deployment. Her husband had been a Guardsman serving in a remote area of Afghanistan with limited internet access. One thing we heard from this wife was her commitment to writing and sending her husband letters. Hand-written letters.

Have you seen those billboards across America which are black with white lettering—with “messages” from God? Have you seen, “We Need to Talk . . . . God”? Or “Loved the Wedding, Invite Me To The Marriage . . . . God”? Or “Need Directions? . . . . God”? The sponsor of these billboards is apparently an anonymous client, but whomever it is has put truth on display which we can all clearly understand. Or do we understand?