So, what’s ahead? For me it’s a long drive from Missouri to Virginia this coming weekend. Shelley will remain in Kansas City with the kids and grandkids for a few weeks. The drive will be lonely without my co-pilot. That’s fine because the grandkids love their Grammy who fixes them waffles, pancakes, and crepes. What’s not to like, right?
The miles ahead, however, give me lots to time to think about many topics. Things I need to do at the river to get ready for summer. Finishing off a three-season room and deck at our home in Northern Virginia. Attend a few of Woody’s—our yellow Labrador retriever—hunt tests. (He has two more until he attains Master Hunter rating.) And resume authoring a book I have begun on the future of artillery fires in large-scale combat operations, the thing we used to call conventional war until some bright fellow decided that term wasn’t suitable. You have to hand it to the Pentagon. They sure know how to change titles, names, and terms. I’d be glad to see them do actual fiscal and acquisition reform, but that’s the topic of a future tome.
There is a lot to think about, especially if you are a writer. I think about the kind of country we will leave our grandchildren. Will it be one where virtue and traditional values will be regarded as superior to the vice and hedonism being advocating in our society? Will religious freedom be for them what our Founders all intended it to be for you and me? Will we face economic collapse amid the profligate and often fraudulent government spending that has produced a national debt that is vulgar and dangerous? Will they be happy, safe, and able to secure the American dream and be able to hand it down to their children? Indeed, will they possess a world view that will make them worthy of self-governance?
When I look into the faces of our grandchildren, these are the things that slip into my consciousness. And I pray. I pray that they will live in a decent and stable society that will nurture all of these things. But most of all I pray that they will see in America a spiritual revival that acknowledges the objective truths of our founding. That regardless of how or whether you practice a particular faith, there is a God. He is real. He is our Creator. Yet the world we live in is a fallen one with many defects and imperfections.
Ever heard a person lament that bad things happen to good people? Well, that is true in a fallen world, which means we have to depend on a faith that has the attributes of a sailboat. A keel to keep us upright, a rudder to keep us on course, and a sail to catch the wind that powers us along. Sometimes the wind is strong and carries us through rough waters. At other times there is hardly even a breeze to keep us inching forward. Rarely is the progress steady and without disaffection.
Recently, those of us who are Christians celebrated Easter. That’s the season of new life, where we believe the Christ arose from the dead to save us from our sins. To give us eternal hope after this life. To instill in us a world view where peace, joy, and mercy can be enjoyed despite the troubles we see before us.
It’s good for me to fall back on that certainty at a time when we face so many challenges as a nation. Some of those challenges make me angry that we must contend with them, given all the wisdom that has been learned over history. The wisdom that underpins faith, family, and freedom. The wisdom that people who are rooted in virtue and values have much better outcomes in life. The wisdom that hard work and effort are far superior to handouts and government dependency. The wisdom that if you are educated in the basics—language, history, art, science, and math—you have a foundation to do many things well and will be likely to succeed in life.
But we have drifted from these things. We seem lost as a nation and increasingly inclined to turn to the next political leader to set things straight. He or she might help. However, absent the right world view, such people lack the framework to repair and return the nation to a place I am hoping our grandchildren will inherit.
I have a long trip ahead of me this week to think about these things. At 74, my options to fix them is limited. But I can write and think, scribendo cogito. And in that regard, the faces of my grandchildren will be along for the ride.
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