Growing up, I had certain ideas about how things were supposed to be. A lot of those impressions had to do with the grown-ups around me. One of these concepts snuck in without my realizing it until years later when my son joined the Marine Corps.
Veterans are supposed to be old men.
When I was young, the only veterans I noticed were those who had served in wars that happened before I was born. They dotted the streets at parades, stood in church when we had patriotic programs and occasionally handed out poppies at our local grocery store in exchange for a donation. They all had one thing in common—even beyond the fact that to my young eyes they were old—they all had the shadow of war in their eyes.
I didn’t interact much with these former soldiers, other than to pray for them. Even as a child, the haunted look in their eyes told me they’d seen things they wish they hadn’t, experienced things they wanted to forget.
Then my son went to war.
When he returned from his first tour, I remember wrapping him in my arms to welcome him home. I immediately recognized the look in his eyes. He had joined the ranks of those old men from my childhood. At 18, he was a veteran.
I wept that night and many others to follow. Not because of fear, but from sorrow, from the change I saw in my son, from young man to old.
Don’t get me wrong, I have the greatest respect for each one who chooses to sacrifice by joining our military. And I’ve watched as God has taken tragedy and turned it to good, over and over again. He is faithful and true.
What I mourn is the lost youth in these men and women. I know some of what populates their nightmares when they return. And I’ve seen their eyes—windows into the horrors of war.
This Veterans Day, applaud the sacrifices, thank those who serve. But never forget the ultimate sacrifice of youth that war has taken. Pray for these men and women to move past what they’ve experienced and back into the arms of God.
