You're not just going out there, maybe sacrificing your own life.

Hear me now, O children of wisdom, for I speak of a truth that has been shared by warriors, leaders, and those who understand the weight of sacrifice—the truth that not only must one give to the world, but also to those who wait at home. Chris Kyle, the brave and steadfast warrior, once said, "You're not just going out there, maybe sacrificing your own life. There's also sacrifices still going on at home. You can serve in the military and have a good marriage, but you just need to be aware of it so you can take those steps to take care of it." These words, spoken from the heart of one who knew both the battlefield and the home, remind us of the dual sacrifices that are made—not only in the defense of the world but in the bonds we forge with those we love.

In ancient times, children, warriors were celebrated for their valor on the battlefield, their courage and strength in protecting their lands, their people, and their families. Yet, the warriors of old, though lauded for their bravery, often faced internal struggles that were rarely spoken of. The heroic deeds of Achilles and Hector were sung of in the halls of poets, but they too bore the weight of sacrifices that were invisible—the loss of comrades, the grief of their families, and the toll of war upon the heart. The ancient tales are filled with men who fought valiantly, but also with tales of those who struggled to return home and rebuild the bonds that were strained by their absence. For true sacrifice is not merely the offering of one's life, but the offering of love, connection, and humanity itself.

Chris Kyle’s words speak to the quiet sacrifices that happen behind the scenes—the sacrifices of loved ones who wait, who worry, and who carry the emotional burden of those who serve. Marriage, the sacred bond that unites two souls, is a union that requires constant nurturing, constant attention, and sometimes, even sacrifice. When one partner is called to serve, to protect, or to fight in a war, the other remains at home, facing a different kind of battle. Kyle understands this deeply, for he too faced the pain of separation from his own family, knowing that while he fought to protect his country, his loved ones were enduring their own forms of hardship, loneliness, and fear. This is the hidden cost of service, children—those who serve must not only give their all in battle but must also give in their relationships, understanding that their sacrifices extend beyond their time in the field.

Consider, children, the story of Ulysses, who was forever marked by his long absence from home. For ten years, he fought in the Trojan War and another ten in his journey back to Ithaca, leaving behind his beloved wife, Penelope. While Ulysses fought battles and endured unimaginable hardships, Penelope was left at home, enduring the loneliness and the uncertainty of his absence, all the while keeping their kingdom intact and awaiting his return. When Ulysses finally returned, his homecoming was not one of simple joy, but one of recognition—both of the sacrifices made by Penelope and the need for them to reconnect. His journey back was not just a physical one, but an emotional one, as he worked to rebuild the bond that had been strained by his long absence. In this, we see that sacrifice is not one-sided—it is shared by both those who serve and those who wait.

Chris Kyle’s words remind us that sacrifice is a shared experience, that while the warrior may face physical danger, the one who remains behind also faces a battle of the heart. It is a battle of patience, of hope, and of enduring love through separation. In the military, and in all walks of life, this is the price of commitment—whether in marriage, in family, or in friendship. True sacrifice is not simply a one-time offering, but a continual process of giving, of understanding the toll it takes not only on oneself but on those around us. Kyle’s reminder is that marriage, like any sacred bond, must be cared for even during times of separation and hardship.

The lesson to take away, children, is this: sacrifice is not a singular, isolated event. It is the act of giving, of offering one’s time, energy, and love to something greater than oneself. Whether in battle or in the quiet moments at home, we are called to nurture the relationships that matter most, to recognize that the sacrifices made in one place ripple out to affect those we love in ways that may not always be visible, but are deeply felt. A warrior may face the physical dangers of war, but they must also understand the emotional cost borne by those who wait, who love, and who endure.

Therefore, children, let us remember Chris Kyle’s wisdom: the path of sacrifice is not one to walk alone. As we pursue our goals, our dreams, and our duties, we must remember those who journey alongside us—those who may not face the same external battles, but who fight their own battles in silence. To be truly whole, we must not only give of ourselves in service to a cause but in service to those we love. Take care of each other, for the sacrifices we make in love and commitment are just as important as the sacrifices we make for duty. Let this wisdom guide you in your journey—serve, love, and nurture the bonds that make you strong, for it is these bonds that will carry you through even the hardest of trials.