Thank you isn’t enough.

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Memorial Day- is a federal holiday in the United States for remembering the people who died while serving in the country’s armed forces.


Ma’am, I hate to be the one to inform you, your son will not be coming home.” “Sir, your wife, she battled hard, and saved many lives. She will be remembered.” “This was in his stuff, I thought you would want this back. He had your proposal all planned out.” 

. . . . .

Small sniffles, a mournful cry. 21 gun salute. A lone trumpet plays ‘Taps’. Folding of a flag. The hand off to the family. The casket lowered. A young son salutes his fallen hero who he calls, “Dad”. A wife clings to the flag that was placed in her hands. All is quiet.

Memorial Day, a time of remembrance, of reflection for the chosen ones who went home to meet their maker far sooner then some wish. Men and women who are the definition of sacrifice, freedom, and bravery. They give up much to keep us safe on home soil while they head off to foreign lands to live, fight, and keep the mindset that they will make it home. But there are some, who although their fight is mighty and their heart is brave, do not ever make it home. Some will be returning home under the cover of our beloved Old Glory, others will remain on that very foreign soil, that they so desperately fight on to come home.

As this Memorial Day comes and goes, one thing is for certain, thank you isn’t enough. There are no words to describe how a heart feels when they watch a wife mourn her husband or a mom her son, but it’s even harder to describe knowing that that death was a sacrifice for the safety of their family, and for all of us Americans. Thank you isn’t enough for the men and women who watch their friends lose their lives right beside them, knowing that some, wish it could have been them instead. Thank you isn’t enough for the ones who became a POW, who were trapped by the enemy and although knew God could move mountains, they knew that they wouldn’t be coming home. So thank you isn’t enough. Thank you isn’t enough for the restless hearts of families whose loved ones were M.I.A. And even after 40 years, they still take a hopeful glance up and every holiday gathering to see if a familiar and loving face comes walking up to the front porch. Thank you isn’t enough to the families who have to step out of a room when the lone trumphet starts to play a familiar, sad tune. Thank you isn’t enough.

There is a time for memories to be summoned up from the depths of our souls. Memories of loved ones, gone far to early, memories of the men and women who lost their lives so that you could wake up, once again, free.

Today is about cherishing the ones who came home, but also for remembering the ones who never made it home to embrace in that first emotional hug after a long deployment.

We know, you all are watching over us, everyday because as they saying goes, “the flag doesn’t fly because of the wind, but flies from every last breath of a fallen soldier,” and so I say,

Thank you, even though, thank you isn’t enough.

In loving memory of, Melvin Douglas Seagraves, M.I.A., 1972, Gulf of Tonkin, USS Tripoli. Love you Uncle Doug and will see you again.

                                                   -Hope Sorrells

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Can I do this?

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Can I do this?

This question has constantly been crossing my mind and my heart since, about March. March 6th to be exact. March 6th at 1:20pm to be even more exact. It was the moment that I heard, “Whom shall I send and who will go for me?” and I said, “Here I am. Send me.”

Now, when I first gave that bold statement, I was in… well… shock. My heart uttered the words, my brain and my mouth were definitely trying to catch up. I had accepted a position with AgriCorps, a non-profit organization, that will allow me to pursue my love of teaching and agriculture in a very un-conventional classroom.

I will be heading off to Ghana, West Africa in early August. 

I have always had a passion for loving people, travel, agriculture, and teaching. I found all four of those loves in the middle of a Honduran village in March of 2012. {(Does anyone else see the re-occuring theme of March being the game changer?)} I had the opportunity to be a part of the Readership Ambassador program at West Texas A&M University where myself, along with 18 of my peers ventured off to an adventure of a lifetime. In the Honduran village, they had just recently built a one-room school house and I saw children ECSTATIC to be coming to school and learning.

After that experience, I knew that I would be heading off to another country to teach Ag. But in the midst of my big dreams, I had a little smaller accomplishments happening. I survived student teaching, an experience that I loved, accepted a Graduate Assistant position back at WTAMU, and walked the stage with my Bachelors of Science in Agricultural Education. I didn’t forget about the global teaching, but it wasn’t a priority, at least not in those moments in my life. Until November of 2016. I was introduced to AgriCorps by another grad student and I, out of curiosity, went to their website and began reading the blogs. My heart instantly swelled, I had tears rolling, and I heard my first small whisper of, “Whom shall I send? Who will go for me?”

And me, being the stubborn, sometimes too bullheaded, of a person ignored it. The words, “There is no way. I can’t do that. Sounds cool. But I can’t do it,” instantly filled up, what I thought was my heart, but was actually just my head. I continued to fight it, even as the recruiter kept trying to find a time to call and chat with me, I still fought the small “Whom shall I send? Who will go for me?”


Fast forward to February, I finally stopped all my emotions and listened to the mission about AgriCorps and I got off the phone, looked at my mom and said,

“I am doing this.”

But after, once you get into your own thoughts, slow down and really think; doubt quickly and quietly sets in. I began asking,

“Can I do this?” Can I leave for one year? Leave behind family, friends, the lifestyle I know, the teaching comforts I love? Can I really step out of that comfort zone of mine and venture to West Africa to Ghana and teach a discipline I so love and adore? Can I even gather my own thoughts enough to explain to people, who I know will look at me like I am quite crazy, and bear my transparency and show them my heart and my passion for this?


Often, this life gives us more opportunities then we actually accept, and I am no different. I am given moments that are small and seem insignificant but in the long run and in reality, they are game changers. Opportunities do not all look the same. Some come barging through a closed door, loud and forceful; others are more polite, they knock and simply wait. Yet others, the ones that will break you out of that comfort zone, make you question everything you know, are the ones that don’t knock or barge in. They wait, until you are ready to walk up to the door, turn the handle, open it up and invite them in. Those are the opportunities to look for and embrace. The opportunities that will turn your world completely upside down. Whether that is trying a new restaurant for the first time, traveling 2 hours away with best friends, leaving all that you know and love and packing up a years worth of items into four bags, or simply going out on your own for a vacation you desperately need.

Find those moments of “Can I do this?” and do them. Don’t let fear or doubt discourage you, fight through. Find your moment to test every status quo you have been taught, to find your boundaries and make them just a little bit bigger.

For me, it is changing my comfort zone from the shape of Texas to Honduras and now to Africa.

-Hope Sorrells