innocent lives lost

“I, (name), do solemnly swear (or affirm) that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; and that I will obey the orders of the President of the United States and the orders of the officers appointed over me, according to regulations and the Uniform Code of Military Justice. (So help me God).”

Upon enlisting in the U.S. Armed Forces, each person takes the above oath of enlistment.

It is a solemn, binding promise that includes the following:

  • A promise to protect American values, rights, and the rule of law, not a person.
  • Obedience to the President and officers appointed over them.
  • A voluntary promise to put the nation and its people first.
  • An understanding they may be required to make the ultimate sacrifice for their country.

Six who once bravely and boldly took that oath were:

Nicole Amor
Declan Coady
Cody Khork
Jeffrey O’Brien
Robert Marzan
Noah Tietjens

These captains, sergeants, majors and more — ages 20 to 54 — from California to Iowa, Florida and elsewhere — were killed at the onset of Operation Epic Fury.

While these deaths occurred in Kuwait, the soldiers were attacked by Iranian drones as part of a wide-scale retaliatory campaign. For the first time in history, Tehran targeted all six members of the Gulf Cooperation Council (GCC), a political and economic union of six Arab states bordering the Persian Gulf which aims to foster economic, security, and cultural cooperation among its monarchies. Iran targeted them in addition to several other U.S. regional partners.

Just because their deaths happened thousands of miles away from most of us, I don’t want there to be any out-of-sight-out-of-mind mentality. Those persons’ innocent lives were lost. Every life has a name. Every name has a story. And every story matters to God.

Behind each of those names are families who love them deeply. There are parents who raised them, friends who laughed with them, coworkers who trusted them, and communities who will forever feel their absence. Their lives were full of moments that mattered long before this moment ever arrived.

When someone raises their right hand and takes that oath, they know there are risks. They understand that service can ask a great deal of them. Yet they step forward anyway — not because it’s easy, but because they believe in serving something bigger than themselves. That kind of selflessness deserves our gratitude and remembrance.

When I think about the men and women who admirably serve this country, I’m reminded that they come from every background and every viewpoint imaginable. They don’t all vote the same way. They don’t all think the same way. But they still stand shoulder to shoulder in service. Maybe there’s something we can learn from that.

Maybe the best way we can honor those who serve — and those we have lost — is by remembering that we’re all in this together. By speaking a little more kindly. By listening a little more patiently. By refusing to let politics turn neighbors into enemies. We can’t control the conflicts that occur in distant places, but we can control the spirit we bring to our own communities.

Nicole. Declan. Cody. Jeffrey. Robert. And Noah.

May their service never be forgotten. May their families be surrounded by love and support. And may their memory remind us to value one another a little more.

Respectfully…

AR

the power of curiosity

Wow… this may be the best thing I’ve heard in a while. Not just the best, but maybe one of the most widely relevant for us all.

But first, allow us three brief but necessary definitions. Let’s define curious, condemning, and to condemn.

curious  | ˈkyo͝orēəs |

adjective

1. eager to know or learn something; inquisitive.

2. interested, inquiring.

And also…

condemning  | kənˈdem iNG | |

adjective

1. to condemn.

And thus… 

condemn  | kənˈdem |

verb

  1. to express an unfavorable or adverse judgment on; indicate strong disapproval of.
  2. to pronounce to be guilty; sentence to punishment. 
  3. to condemn a murderer to life imprisonment.
  4. to give grounds or reason for convicting or censuring. 
  5. to judge or pronounce to be unfit for use or service.
  6. to condemn an old building.
  7. to force into a specific state or activity. 
  8. to doom to eternal punishment in hell. 
  9. to declare incurable.

One of the blessings of this age and stage of life is that I have multiple wise and wonderful friends who are established, mental health professionals. Among them are psychiatrists, psychologists, social workers and counselors who have years of seasoned experience and insight. They have some excellent things to say.

This week in one of my interactions, one shared one of those nuggets of truth that I knew I needed to hold onto. It was simple, but so poignant. So true. And so wanting for all to know.

She said it’s impossible to be curious and condemning at the same time.

Let me say that again…

It’s impossible to be curious and condemning at the same time.

Without a doubt, in this heightened, polarizing culture we live in, there is a ton of condemnation… a plethora of expressing unfavorable or adverse judgment of another… not just for what people do, but sadly, for who they are.

It makes me think…

We have lost our pursuit of curiosity. We have dismissed its value, its beauty and its need. When we are curious of another, we seek to understand, to learn and to know. We recognize there is always more we need to know. What a gift curiosity proves to be.

There is wisdom, therefore, in being a curious people. 

Sounds like something essential to work on.

Respectfully…

AR

sad. sober. and honest about what we don’t know.

Saturday was a sobering day. Many of us woke up to the news that the U.S. and Israel had launched coordinated strikes across Iran in “Operation Epic Fury,” targeting ballistic missile and nuclear infrastructure. The stated goal: eliminate future Iranian threats and stop any pursuit of nuclear weapons. Pres. Trump also defined success as something more sweeping — the Iranian people rising up and ending the current regime.

Before we rush to our corners, it’s worth stating two things plainly.

First: the Iranian regime is oppressive. That’s not partisan rhetoric; that’s well-documented reality.

For years, organizations like Amnesty International, Human Rights Watch, and the United Nations have detailed what life under the Islamic Republic often entails:

  • Frequent use of the death penalty, including for non-violent crimes.
  • Security forces using deadly force against protestors.
  • Reports of torture and psychological abuse in detention.
  • Punishments such as flogging and amputation permitted under law.
  • Arbitrary arrests without clear charges or due process.
  • Courts lacking independence and full transparency.
  • Restricted access to independent legal counsel in political cases.
  • Criminalization of speech critical of authorities.
  • Journalists harassed, detained, or imprisoned.
  • Peaceful protests forcibly broken up.
  • Severe limits on civic groups, unions, and activists.
  • Discrimination against religious minorities.
  • State monitoring of online activity and personal communications.
  • Legal inequalities affecting certain groups disproportionately.
  • Women facing legal inequities in family law, inheritance, travel, and mandatory dress requirements.

When protests intensified last December, the regime reportedly responded with escalated force and even cut off internet access. Whatever one thinks about foreign policy, it’s hard to argue that this is a system characterized by broad civil liberty.

Second: most of us have an extremely limited perspective on what just happened. We scroll headlines. We react. We debate. But we are not in intelligence briefings. We do not see classified assessments. We do not sit with military planners weighing options that likely all carry serious risk. That doesn’t mean citizens shouldn’t have opinions. It does mean we should hold them with humility.

It’s also worth remembering that what Pres. Trump did is not historically unique. Military action without formal congressional approval has precedent across administrations, such as:

  • George H. W. Bush in Panama (1989)
  • Bill Clinton in Kosovo (1999)
  • Barack Obama in Libya (2011)
  • Joe Biden in Syria and Iraq (2021–2024)

One can argue about constitutionality. One can debate prudence. But this pattern did not begin on Saturday.

That’s why the day feels sad and sobering to me.

Not because I have fully resolved whether the strikes were right or wrong. Not because I align neatly with one political tribe or the other. But because at some point, people who know far more than I do concluded that military force was the least bad option available. And that is always sobering.

War means risk. It means unintended consequences. It means innocent lives in danger. Even when confronting a repressive regime, the human cost is real.

So yes — Iran’s government is oppressive. Yes — the suffering of its people is documented and ongoing. And yes — American presidents of both parties have used military force without Congress formally declaring war. We can acknowledge all of that at once.

God be with us. May casualties and innocent life on all sides be minimized. And may truth always prevail.

Soberly…
AR