Monday was Memorial Day, and in my home—the house of history—we remember war time stories. The TV channels find all the war movies to show, and D-Day and Normandy beach flash before our eyes. Those heroes, so many that didn’t come back

That’s the point of Memorial day. Rememer, Honor and be inspired to be worthy of that sacrifice.

Those soldiers train hard. They learned and struggled and practiced. This process allows heroic efforts. It is vanishingly rare for great deeds to come without preparation

I remember the heroes across time. More than one movie told of battle of Thermopylae, between the Spartans and Xerxes king of Persia

300 Spartand fought off the persians—a hundred thousand they say—and won the day. Before that battle, Spartans were legendary for their battle training. All of them learned from young days to fight.

That’s one massive confrontation.

Then I think of the story of David. He took on one man.

Goliath was massive, and David wasn’t even a man yet. Little brother went to the battle field with a picnic basket and told his brothers they were chicken.

Easy for him to say, he was visiting.

And he knew something they didn’t know. He knew what he’d been doing with his time. He’d mastered the sling, and could sling a rock exactly where he wanted it to go.

That was a big advantage over Goliath’s size. And from a distance, without ever touching him, David took down the giant.

Normandy Beach, the 300 at Thermopylae, David and Goliath—I am sobered and serious about being the best I can be.

All these heroes had sytems. They did repetitive action until they knew without thinking what movement to make and what action to take.

I am loath to put these heroes to shame. I have systems, I know what I could be doing.

They have come to the end of their days. I have not.

This is my day. I’m going to make something of it.