As long as God gives me strength to work and try to make things

In the words of Medgar Evers, we hear not the fleeting ambition of one man, but the eternal vow of a father, a warrior, and a servant of justice. He declared: “As long as God gives me strength to work and try to make things real for my children, I’m going to work for it—even if it means making the ultimate sacrifice.” These words are not mere breath—they are an oath forged in fire. They remind us that the highest labor is not for gold, nor fame, nor fleeting honors, but for the future of our children and the dignity of all who come after us.

Evers spoke these words in the crucible of the American Civil Rights Movement, when the shadows of hatred and injustice weighed heavily upon his people. In Mississippi, he stood as a beacon, demanding that freedom and equality be more than promises carved into paper. He saw with his own eyes the cruel hand of segregation, the denial of rights, the daily humiliations inflicted upon Black men, women, and children. And yet, instead of despair, he answered with a vow: as long as God granted him breath, he would labor for change. His strength was not only for himself, but for his children and for generations unborn.

This spirit is ancient. It is the same spirit that drove Moses to lead his people out of bondage, knowing he might not reach the promised land himself, but that his children would inherit it. It is the same spirit that inspired Leonidas at Thermopylae, who stood with his three hundred, not for glory alone, but so that the cities of Greece might live free. Evers joined this lineage of heroes who understood that the ultimate sacrifice—the giving of one’s very life—is not a loss when it secures the flourishing of one’s people.

And indeed, his words became prophecy. On June 12, 1963, Medgar Evers fell to an assassin’s bullet outside his own home. His wife, Myrlie, and his children bore witness to the cost of his vow. Yet though his body was struck down, his sacrifice poured life into the movement. His blood watered the tree of liberty, and his death stirred hearts across the nation, helping to ignite the Civil Rights Act and the long march toward justice. His enemies sought to silence him, but instead they amplified his voice for generations.

The meaning of his words is clear: to labor for what is right, we must be willing to endure suffering, and even death. But it is not death itself that gives power to sacrifice—it is the love that motivates it. Evers did not fight for himself; he fought for his children, for all children, for the yet-unborn who would walk freer because of his courage. His life teaches us that the most enduring strength flows not from ambition, but from devotion. Love makes men unbreakable, and faith makes them fearless.

From this, we must learn. Our world still demands sacrifice. Perhaps not always of life, but of comfort, of ease, of selfishness. To labor for justice, to labor for one’s family, to labor for truth, requires daily giving. When we choose to stand up against wrong, when we place the needs of our children and community above our own, we echo Evers’ vow. Though the sacrifices we make may be smaller, they form the same great chain of courage that binds us to him and to the heroes before him.

Practically, this means acting with resolve where injustice lives. It means working hard, not only for our own survival, but to build a better world for those who follow. It means speaking truth when silence would be easier, defending the weak when cowardice tempts us, and giving of our time and labor so that others may live more freely. These are the daily sacrifices that, over time, become the great legacy of a life well spent.

So let this be the lesson: strength is a gift of God, sacrifice is the measure of love, and labor for others is the path to immortality. As Medgar Evers vowed, so too must we vow: as long as we have breath, let us work for what is just, for what is real, and for what is eternal—even if it demands of us the greatest cost. For though the body may perish, the love and courage we leave behind will rise to guide generations yet to come.