Even as he recognized the familiar feeling of being awakened to a greater purpose for his own life, the anger that swept into Tim’s heart outpowered everything else. “I floundered for a couple years,” says Tim. “I was mad at God and everybody.”

Tim was 27 years old when he decided to carry on his family’s legacy of service.

He became the fourth generation of Strouds to serve in the United States military, serving as a combat medic like his dad.

Deployments to places like Kosovo, Kuwait, and Iraq came next. He’s proud of his service even as he seems to feel compelled to note that, “I was not the guy who ran out into the battlefield,” like Desmond Doss. His job was in support, ensure the men in his company were healthy and well. He performed his duties alongside them in the 140 degree heat, with Kevlar strapped on. The calling he’d first felt at five years old was finally heard. He loved his time in the military and misses it today. It’s not the conflict he misses, though. It’s the camaraderie. 

That sense of camaraderie is common in groups of people who go through struggle or battle or bad times or even good times together. Any moment of experience that we experience alongside a person binds us together, if even for just that moment. But those moments, however fleeting, can also serve to disrupt messages or actions of malice and divisiveness. It’s difficult to look at someone you feel a sense of solidarity with and despise or denounce them.

Once upon a time, the playing of the national anthem served as an opportunity to reinforce solidarity among Americans. Regardless of our differences, the anthem reminded us all that we share common ground. Tens of thousands of friendly rivals in sporting games were united for the few moments the anthem played. Broken, grieving, wounded, scared, angry Americans stood together as one after 9/11, beside our flag flying from almost every home.