They gave their all because it is what they were trained to do.
But they served because they had a servant’s heart.
Do we offer them all the gratitude they deserve?
Do we really see them?
Do we see the ravages?
Do we see their broken hearts because their brothers-in-arms didn’t come home?
Do we see the memories that haunt those who survived?
Do we see that they come home from war in pieces?
Do we see their broken bodies and their battered souls?
Stitching their own hearts back together like they stitched together their men on the field.
Lost soldiers whose names are inked on the arms and the souls of their brothers still here.
Still fighting.
Still fighting.
Still fighting.
Please don’t stop fighting.
You are a savior.
A savior with a bruised heart…but a savior nonetheless.
Thank you for protecting for us.
Thank you for doing what I would not do. What I could not do.
Your savior heart.
Your purple heart.
Your broken heart.
Thank you.
For your sacrifice.
Thank you.
For your service.
I see you.
And I thank you.