In 1976, I was 7 years old.
America was celebrating its 200th birthday, and my parents wanted me to watch the coverage on television. They understood that it was history. They knew it mattered. They wanted me to take in the moment, even if I could not fully understand it.
But I had other plans.
I wanted to go outside and play with my friend.
At 7 years old, I was oblivious to the significance of the day. The Bicentennial was happening all around me, but my world was much smaller. It was made up of bicycles, backyard games, and the simple urgency of childhood. History could wait. My friend was outside.
Now, 50 years later, I think about that day differently.
On July 4, 2026, America officially celebrates its 250th birthday. A quarter of a millennium. Think about that for a moment. Few nations have endured what this nation has endured. Fewer still have managed to keep striving, arguing, correcting, rebuilding, and reaching toward the ideals written at their founding.
My relationship with this country has changed since I was that 7-year-old boy.
I would later serve in the United States Air Force during Operation Desert Shield and Desert Storm. I wore the uniform of this nation, and I would do it again. Not because America is perfect. It is not. Not because I have agreed with every decision made by every leader. I have not. I would do it again because the idea of America is still worth defending.
That matters.
Service has a way of changing how you see freedom. It stops being just a word in a song or a phrase in a speech. It becomes connected to faces, families, sacrifices, and responsibilities.
I am reminded of that when I walk the halls of the local VA hospital. There, I see men and women who gave far more than most people will ever know. Some carry visible wounds. Others carry burdens that do not show up in a photograph. Each one represents a chapter in America’s story. Some served in wars that were popular. Some served in wars that were debated. All served under the same flag.
When you spend time around veterans, it becomes harder to treat patriotism as a slogan. It becomes something deeper. It becomes gratitude. It becomes humility. It becomes a responsibility to live in a way that honors what others were willing to give.
And yet, I would be dishonest if I said I am not concerned about where we are as a nation.
In recent years, it feels like we have moved from being “one nation under God” to being neither one, nor under. We are divided in our politics, divided in our culture, divided in our communities, and sometimes even divided in our families. We talk past each other. We assume the worst. We confuse volume with conviction and anger with strength.
The truth is, no nation can remain strong if its people lose the ability to see one another as neighbors.
America has never been everything everyone wanted it to be. Depending on your point of view, you may see different failures, different wounds, and different priorities. That is part of living in a free country. We get to disagree. We get to debate. We get to push for change.
But we should never forget what a rare thing this country still is.
For all our problems, America remains one of the greatest nations on earth. People still risk everything to come here. Innovation still happens here. Opportunity still lives here. Communities still rally around one another here. Churches, civic groups, businesses, schools, and families still step up when the need is real.
We are not finished.
That may be the most important point of this 250th birthday. The celebration should not simply be about fireworks, flags, parades, and patriotic music, although all of those have their place. It should be about recommitment.
Recommitment to citizenship.
Recommitment to responsibility.
Recommitment to faith, family, service, and community.
Recommitment to the idea that freedom is not just something we inherit. It is something we steward.
When I look back at 1976, I smile at that 7-year-old boy who wanted to play instead of watch history. He did not know what the moment meant. He did not know that one day he would wear the uniform. He did not know that one day he would look at America with both gratitude and concern.
But I know now.
This Independence Day, let’s allow America’s 250th birthday to be a reset for all of us. Not a reset that erases our disagreements, but one that reminds us what we still share. Not a reset that pretends our problems are small, but one that reminds us our calling is bigger.
America may not be everything we want it to be.
But it is still worth loving, still worth serving, still worth improving, and still worth handing to the next generation better than we found it.
The celebration will pass. The fireworks will fade.
The responsibility remains.