There are moments when the world feels so large and so unstable that it becomes hard to know what you’re supposed to do with it.
I think this is one of those moments.
War in the Middle East, rising tension overseas, markets reacting, oil prices climbing, families of American service members waiting for news and wondering what comes next… all of it creates this kind of pressure that is difficult to explain. It’s angering – almost. It is unsettling. And if I am honest, it can leave a person feeling small.
We’re good Americans. We pay taxes. We follow the news. And we watch leaders make decisions an ocean away, and then we wait to see how those decisions return to us in the form of higher prices, broken hearts, and just more and more uncertainty.
That frustration is real.
But adulthood, I think, also means admitting when something is beyond your control and asking a harder question: what can I still protect? What still matters? What is still ours to care for?
When the world feels like it is on fire, I find myself thinking about home.
I think about the quiet beauty of Cibola County. I think about the Zuni Mountains. I think about Bluewater Lake. I think about the garden I planted a few weeks ago that is finally beginning to sprout. I think about my little dog Panda chasing lizards around the yard like it is the most important work in the world.
And maybe, in its own way, it is.
Because life does not stop just because the headlines are terrible.
The flowers on Mount Taylor will still grow. The wind will still move through the trees. The red earth still holds.
Cibola County is one of the most beautiful places in America. I believe that with my whole heart. And in a time like this, I think it is worth saying plainly: enjoy Cibola. Cherish Cibola. Protect Cibola.
Somehow war has a way of reaching into every home, causing grief in one way or another. But, because beauty is still here, and because we must not surrender it to fear, I love being an American, and I love being a New Mexican.
Yes, I am angry. Yes, I am worried about what comes next.
But I am also grateful.
Grateful for this county. Grateful for the people in it. Grateful for the chance to live in a place still worth loving while so much of the world seems determined to forget what love of place even means.
May we never forget. God bless Cibola County.
God bless our troops.
I salute the flag of the state of New Mexico, the Zia symbol of perfect friendship among united cultures.