Weekly Updates
"Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends." ~John 15:13
Etched on simple white markers in Arlington National Cemetery are the names of the men and women who fought and died, who gave what Lincoln called "the last full measure of devotion," to secure our American way of life. Each of those names represents a choice—a decision to live and die in service of others, a decision to sacrifice.
How can we understand and honor that sacrifice? What does it mean?
Imagine that you have a 3 o'clock appointment in D.C. You have your keys, your wallet, plenty of gas—everything you need. You leave your home in Virginia with time to spare. You're relaxed, calm, and ready to go. Now, imagine that at 2:45 p.m., you're sitting on I-95 at a dead standstill. You look to your left and to your right. You roll down the window and strain to see ahead, trying to get a glimpse of what's causing the delay. You're completely and utterly stuck. You let the reality that you're nowhere near where you need to be sink in. There's nothing that you can do in that moment.
You know that email you've been saving? The one from your dad … or co-worker … or best friend … or daughter? The one they thought only you would see? The one YOU thought only you would see? Well, as the law stands now, law enforcement officials could have legal access to that email without so much as a warrant.
"An overwhelming desire to serve."
That's the answer a Marine Corps Major gave me earlier this week when I asked him why he chose to join the military. "I wanted to be a part of and serve something greater than I ever could on my own," he told me, "and I wanted to protect, on a small scale, my family and friends, and on a larger scale, a way of life. If you were to ask most people who join why they signed up, they would tell you it's the intangibles. It isn't about what you can get out of it; it's about what you can give."
Tax day. It's dreaded, it's feared, it's loathed. And rightfully so.
Last year, Americans rushing to file their taxes by the April 15 deadline dealt with a 74,608-page-long Internal Revenue Code (tax code). And whether you're an early 20-something finishing school and paying taxes for the first time or you're a 50-something with diverse assets and your own business, that's daunting. Our impenetrable tax code makes it impossible to feel confident that you've filed your taxes correctly without an extraordinary amount of time, effort, and expense.
I believe, and I've often told my staff, that we're put on this earth to make a difference in the lives of others. As a public servant, that's what motivates me. When I look around and I see the faces of my family, friends, co-workers, and neighbors, I see so much potential. The folks who make up the First District are a powerful force for good. We can change our Commonwealth, our country, and our world, one act of generosity at a time.
Folks,
Growing up in the town of Montross on the Northern Neck of Virginia, I learned early that when you're outdoors, there are no ugly places. I can't say how many boyhood afternoons I spent with a line in the water, watching the sun sink beyond the horizon, or how many days I spent wandering in the woods with my dad. But what I can say is that, for me and for so many Americans, the time spent in the great outdoors was foundational.
February 3, 1959. That's the day I was born. But home didn't start there. It started when my mom and dad adopted me. And in a way, that's comforting. My family chose me—they could have chosen anyone, but they chose me. And the woman who brought me into the world gave me more than life; she gave me possibility. She gave me a shot at a boyhood full of fishing boats and baseball cards and the opportunity to have a wife and children and now grandchildren of my own. She gave me the chance to serve the community that made me the man I am and to make a difference in the lives of others.