To get home from where I work, I drive through a rustic little town sheltered in the beginning of mountains so beautiful you want to keep driving through them. It's a quiet place, except when cyclists steal its peacefulness with their thundering Harleys, but no one seems to mind. There's room for all kinds of people, what ever they drive, to enjoy time there.

I've been so preoccupied with my new job, that I wasn't thinking about the holiday, until I noticed red, white, and blue bunting draped across old store fronts, and our flag started showing up around the town, and waltzed a little with the gentle wind, as if to announce "Memorial Day is here".

I looked at them as much as I could while waiting for the town's main traffic light to change, and felt a chill at the base of my neck, remembering what they represent; remembering that soldiers somewhere guarded our freedoms so well that very night, that we could take for granted, or sometimes forget how precious it is that we live where little towns are peaceful.

Not that we should always wear serious faces, or make the Bill of Rights a religious mantra. But if we knew the price our freedom cost, we might take time to breathe a little thank you for them.

The sons and daughters who defend us will get the job done, no matter what it costs, even if it's their own blood, but we should support them in any way we can, and do more ourselves, to make sure freedom's still around for our childrens' children's children.

Most of the time I avoid controversy, to not offend others' viewpoints, but especially lately I've noticed the death count of our country's men and women in Iraq. Since the war started four years ago, three thousand four hundred and fifty one of them have died there. From the start of this month to May 26, a hundred more have died; most of them killed by enemy car bombings, or similar ways of trying to kill us. I say "us", because each time an American dies over there, it's not an isolated death. Whether we realize it or not, their death affects each one of us, or it should. For someone to sacrifice that much for us, the least we can do is honor and respect their love of our country.

I'm not writing this to rant and rave about the politics of this war, But I understand if the Humvees they use over there, were replaced with vehicles called MRAPS, they would have a better chance of staying alive.

News reports say that for two years the troops have sent urgent requests to get the better vehicles, that they've asked for twelve thousand of them, but got less than a hundred, while almost every day, more of our soldiers die. Try to imagine how you would feel, if the next one whose blood flows over there were your kin.

The news about replacing the Humvees mentions "red tape' slowing getting the better vehicles built. How long will it take? It's already been two years.

In my own life God has solved tremendous problems that people couldn't. So I'm not asking you to call or write your congressman.

We need to take this matter to The One Who isn't fazed by bureaucratic entanglements. Take it to the One who not only stills the waters, but changes the direction of rivers.

If you would, put a little reminder some place where you'll see it. Remind yourself to pray for those who guard our lives with their own. Write it in big, bold print: Our soldiers need safer vehicles, the MRAPS now.