Earn This

The Book of Ron · 45 of 48 · 4 minute read

This is not really my story. It is a combination of things I have experienced and things I have seen in life.

Most people have seen the movie Saving Private Ryan. There is a scene near the end where Tom Hanks is mortally wounded. Private Ryan leans over him as he is dying. With the last of his strength, Tom Hanks pulls him close and whispers two simple words.

“Earn this.”

At the end of the movie, Ryan is now an old man standing in the military cemetery. The entire movie has really been his memory unfolding before our eyes. He stands there looking at the graves of the men who died so that he could live.

His wife and his family are beside him.

With tears in his eyes he turns to her and says, “Tell me I’ve been a good man.”

What he is really asking is this: Did I earn this? Did I live a life worthy of the sacrifice those men made for me?

In some way, I think all of us ask that question.

For me, it takes me back to the night I accepted the Lord.

I could almost feel the Lord’s hand resting on my head. In my mind I could see Him hanging on the cross and absorbing my sins, suffering in ways I can barely comprehend. And I realized something very clearly.

He never said, “Earn this.”

His grace was sufficient.

But even though grace cannot be earned, I still owed Him something. I owed Him the honor of trying to walk through life with integrity. I owed Him discipline. I owed Him my best effort to live as the Christian man I was called to be.

Have I done that perfectly?

Not even close.

I have fallen flat on my face many times. I have made mistakes I wish I could erase. But as I move toward the later years of my life, I find myself asking a similar question.

Did I earn this?

Not salvation. None of us can earn that. Grace is a gift that no man deserves.

But what about the life that follows?

Especially for men, there is a responsibility many do not fully understand. A man is called to protect. To provide. To give security. To carry burdens that others cannot carry. And when he stumbles and falls, he must get back up and keep walking.

Each night I thank the Lord for His grace.

But grace is not a “get out of jail free card.” It is an invitation to live differently.

When I look back over my life through all these stories, I can say something honestly. Not proudly, but honestly.

I tried.

I tried to serve my family.

I tried to serve my customers.

I tried to serve my church.

I tried to help the people the Lord placed in my path.

Many times in life you will help people and never hear a thank you. That is not why we do it. That was never what I was asking for.

But I do hope that in the end my life can be weighed honestly.

The Marine Corps is a deep part of who I am. As Ronald Reagan once said, Marines do not have to worry about whether they made a difference or whether they served their country.

In my heart, I know I have served this world.

My only fear is that the world did not always see it. But even more than that, I fear that my granddaughters, and especially Cheryl, may not have seen it.

Every day I simply tried to pull the load placed in front of me.

During the entire time I was married to Cheryl, I never missed a day of work. I do not say that boastfully. I do not say it with pride. But somehow that kind of effort should mean something.

I never wanted recognition. I never wanted applause.

I only wanted the privilege of pulling that ore cart.

And maybe when my life is weighed on honest scales, it will be seen for what it truly was.

A man who tried.

There is a companion workbook for this story. Open the workbook (PDF).