America is moving forward and gaining strength. We have been

Hear, O children of the Republic, the words of Bill Frist, who spoke as a physician turned statesman, gazing upon his people with the heart of a healer and the eye of a leader: “America is moving forward and gaining strength. We have been tested, and we have proven ourselves to be a tough, resilient and resourceful nation.” These words, born in the early years of a new century, ring not only as a statement of pride but as a hymn of endurance. For every nation, like every soul, must walk through fire to know its strength, and every trial becomes the forge of identity.

The tests of which he spoke were not small. America had faced the agony of September’s destruction, the terror that sought to break its spirit, and the wars that followed, straining both body and heart. Yet out of the ashes rose not defeat but resilience, not despair but resolve. The people gathered, mourned, rebuilt, and pressed on. In such crucibles, a nation discovers what lies at its core—not in times of peace and ease, but in the furnace of trial.

To call a people tough is no empty praise. Toughness is not cruelty, nor is it stubbornness. It is the power to endure without breaking, to suffer without surrendering, to rise even when burdened. To call a people resilient is to honor their ability to bend with the storm and yet return upright when the winds pass. To call a people resourceful is to celebrate their capacity to create, to innovate, to find a way where none seems visible. These three—toughness, resilience, resourcefulness—are the hallmarks not only of a nation, but of every enduring civilization.

History itself bears testimony. Think of the days of Franklin D. Roosevelt, when the Great Depression brought hunger and despair to millions. Factories were closed, banks had failed, spirits were broken. Yet the nation found within itself the strength to endure and rebuild. Through work programs, through shared sacrifice, through the resilience of ordinary families, America emerged stronger than before. Again, in the fires of the Second World War, when democracy itself was threatened, the nation called upon its toughness, resilience, and resourcefulness—and the tide of history was turned.

The lesson of Frist’s words is that testing is not the enemy—it is the teacher. A nation, like a man, knows not its full measure until it has been tried. When the seas are calm, any vessel may sail. But when storms rage, only the well-built ship proves its worth. In hardship, America found its keel, its sail, its guiding star. And so too must each of us, in our smaller storms, remember that the trial is not the end of us, but the proof of us.

O children of tomorrow, take this teaching into your own hearts. When you are tested, whether by loss, by failure, or by fear, remember the words: moving forward and gaining strength. Do not imagine that hardship is proof of weakness; it is the very soil in which strength is grown. Be tough in the face of pain, resilient in the face of failure, resourceful in the face of scarcity. In doing so, you echo the spirit of a nation that has endured much and yet still rises.

Practical is this counsel: when trial comes, do not ask, Why me? Ask instead, What strength may I discover here? What resilience may I learn? What resource may I uncover? Write these lessons into your soul, as a nation writes them into its history. For just as America gains its power through hardship overcome, so too does every person gain their wisdom through storms endured.

Thus, remember the words of Frist: “We have been tested, and we have proven ourselves.” This is not only the story of a nation, but the destiny of all who choose to walk bravely. The test will come. The storm will rage. But in your toughness, in your resilience, in your resourcefulness, you too will rise—and your life will sing the same truth as the story of a people who would not be broken.