On My Mind

On my way to the National Religious Broadcasters conference this year my wife and I encountered two people that made me grateful. I didn't get either of their names, but I hope I will remember them both.

The first was a short, solidly built man in army fatigues that stood beside us as we waited for our luggage. We began to talk and discovered that he'll soon head to Georgia to learn how to jump out of airplanes, then after that will represent us and freedom in Afghanistan. Six months ago he was a middle school principal and Army reservist. Six months from now he'll be in Afghanistan, maybe getting shot at. He has a wife and two sons. We thanked him and wished him well, reminded again that our freedom wasn't and isn't free.

The second man we met was our taxi driver, taking us on a midnight run to the Opryland Hotel. He is a new American, born in Ethiopia and less than a year on US soil. He won the US visa lottery in his country to allow him a new life in America. It sounded like that lottery announcement was one of his happiest days. To be allowed a handhold on the ladder of the American dream! He isn't far up, driving a taxi at midnight. But he's on his way. And he's both thankful and excited.

In a way, I too won a lottery for US citizenship. I won the day I was born, and therefore it's a little easier to take it for granted. But I shouldn't take it for granted, and neither should you. Next time I start, please remind me of my two friends in Nashville who understand a little more deeply what it means and what it's worth to be an American.