Thoughts from the Archangel

“Adopting” a soldier has changed me a little.  I think about the guy frequently, although I hardly know anything about him.  I don’t even know where he’s stationed.  What I do know is that he wants snacks and Axe body wash.  This, and a few letters a month, I can provide.  This is very little for what I feel like I am getting in return.

I am the worry-some type.  I worry about my friends and family when they’re not happy or healthy.  I try to cheer people up.  I even attempt to come out of my own protective shell and show a little warmth and compassion when it’s needed to those not close to me.   I started worrying about “my” soldier the minute I got the message I had gotten one.  Where was he/she?  Are they in danger all the time?  What can I send to make them feel better?  I still don’t know the answer to these questions, but the worry has gradually dissolved…

…but into what?

I’ve always wanted to be one of those people that others viewed as “classy” and “gracious”.  I am not making much headway what with my sarcasm and cynicism, but I think that this adoption has brought something out in me that is certainly a step in the right direction: gratitude.

I am grateful for whatever it is my soldier does.  I don’t care if he’s sitting on the beach in Pensacola waiting to go on Bikini Patrol with the Coast Guard there (yes, I’ve seen it happen).  The fact is that he joined the military knowing that somewhere, sometime, his ass life is on the line.  It’s more than I did.  I went to college to sit at a desk and blog about sports, apparently.   I am grateful for the brave men and women of the militaries around the world that are trying to make a difference in places like Afghanistan.  I am grateful that people like Michael Yon exist to actually show what’s going on over there – this isn’t the mainstream media; this is the real deal.

I am grateful for people like my soldier.  It doesn’t matter if you’re a police officer, a nurse, or a teacher, what  you’re doing is important.  In order to become that classy individual that I would like to be, I need to make sure I count too.  This, I think, starts with being grateful for the sacrifices and work of others.  But don’t think for a minute that I won’t be bagging on Peyton Manning, the Cubs, or the ViQueens…my soldier is fighting, in one way or another, so that I can still do that.

And, for that,  I am grateful.

Lest I keep my complacent way, I must remember somewhere out there a person dies for me today.  As long as there must be war, I ask, and I must answer, was I worth dying for? – Eleanor Roosevelt

Want to start feeling good about yourself?  Adopt a soldier today!