I cry. I cry about anything patriotic and many things sad. When I read the Declaration of Independence or the story of a fallen hero, I cry. I don’t know why. I heard once that it’s the Holy Spirit grieving. He’s doing a lot of grieving then. I read words from wars whose soldiers have all gone on. And I cry. I read words from this war. And I cry.

It’s obvious enough that my high school kids used to bring in patriotic stuff just to see who could get me to cry the most. And a friend from church, who I had to call about funeral arrangements for a fallen soldier, asked if I was crying, just taking the information down. I was.

If my tears serve any purpose, I do not know it. Except, perhaps, to honor those who fought and those who died. I hope that my tears honor them.