I am tired of writing about war.
I am tired of reading casualty lists. I am tired of trying to understand the language of missile strikes, ceasefires, blockades, drones, negotiations and retaliation. I am tired of watching the world feel like it is coming apart piece by piece while ordinary Americans are left trying to make sense of it all.
But being tired does not remove the responsibility to think clearly.
Right now, there is a part of me that wants peace more than anything. I think most Americans feel that way. We do not want to see more families receive the phone call no military family ever wants to receive. We do not want more service members killed.
We do not want another generation shaped by war.
We want peace. But peace cannot simply mean stopping the shooting for the sake of stopping the shooting. Peace cannot mean pretending Iran has magically become a peaceful republic and stop mass killing its protestors. Peace cannot mean allowing Iran to walk away from this conflict claiming victory while American families bury their dead.
If the United States reaches an agreement with Iran, it must be an agreement that protects American interests, honors American sacrifice and makes the world safer.
This cannot be an agreement built on exhaustion. It cannot be an agreement that teaches Tehran, Moscow, Beijing or any other hostile power that the United States can be pressured, bloodied, waited out and then forced to retreat from its own principles.
That would not be peace.
That would be surrender.
I do not say that lightly. I do not say it because I want more war. I say it because I want a future.
I intend to have a family someday. I hope to have children. I want them to grow up in an America that is strong, free, confident and worthy of the sacrifices that came before them.
I want my children to inherit a country that knows the difference between restraint and weakness.
There is wisdom in restraint. A powerful nation should not be reckless. America should not confuse strength with anger, or patriotism with a desire for endless conflict. The lives of our service members are precious, and no president, no Congress, no political party should ever spend them carelessly.
But weakness has a cost, too.
When America looks weak, the world does not become more peaceful.
Dangerous regimes do not suddenly become more reasonable when America slips. They test the boundaries. They probe for hesitation. They look for daylight between our words and our actions.
We have seen this before.
Russia tested – is testing – the free world in Ukraine. China tests the Pacific.
Iran has spent years building influence through proxies, missiles, drones and terror networks across the Middle East. These threats are not isolated. They are part of a broader challenge to the world America helped build after World War II.
That world is imperfect. America is imperfect. We have made mistakes, sometimes terrible ones. But the alternative being offered by authoritarian powers is not justice. It is not peace. The alternative is danger and dictatorship.
The question is not whether America should seek peace. Of course we should.
The question is what kind of peace we are willing to accept.
A real peace should make it harder for Iran to threaten American forces, and our Gulf partners. A real peace should reduce the danger of nuclear escalation. A real peace should make clear that attacking Americans carries consequences.
And a real peace should allow the American people to look at the families of the fallen and say their sacrifice was not wasted.
Can we say that today? Because our children are watching, even if they do not fully understand the details. They are watching how adults talk about America. They are watching whether we still believe this country is worth defending.
Our children are watching whether freedom is something we cherish or something we treat like an embarrassment.
I worry about that.
I worry that too many young Americans are being taught to see their country only through its failures. We should teach history honestly, including the painful parts. But honesty is not the same as contempt. A nation that cannot teach its children gratitude, responsibility and love of country will eventually struggle to defend itself – not because it lacks weapons, but because it lacks belief in itself.
America does not need blind nationalism.
America needs serious patriotism.
The kind of patriotism that can admit mistakes and still love the country. The kind that can demand accountability and still honor the flag. The kind that can seek peace while refusing humiliation. The kind that remembers freedom is not automatic, and that every generation has a duty to preserve it.
Here in Cibola County, that duty is not abstract.
Our families know what military service means. Many know what sacrifice means. Many understand that decisions made thousands of miles away can still reach our homes, our wallets, our churches, our schools and our dinner tables.
So yes, I want peace.
I want our service members home. I want the killing to stop. I want the world to step back from the edge.
But I do not want peace at any price.
America should negotiate from strength. America should honor its dead. America should protect its future. America should remember that the goal is not endless war, but a peace strong enough to last.
That is the message we should send our children.
Not that America is perfect.
Not that America is invincible.
But that America is still worth defending.
And if we are fortunate enough to leave our children peace, let it be a peace built on courage, clarity and strength. Our grandparents understood the importance of a strong America.
God Bless the United State of America.
God Bless our troops. God Bless and Happy Birthday, Cibola County.