250 Candles. One Question.

There is something that has been sitting with me this Independence Day.

I’ve found myself thinking about the difference between America’s 200th birthday in 1976 and her 250th birthday in 2026.

I was old enough to remember the Bicentennial. I remember the flags, the celebrations, the excitement, and the sense that something special was happening. What I didn’t fully understand at the time was everything taking place beneath the surface – the political tensions, the economic challenges, the lingering effects of Vietnam and Watergate.

Looking back now, I realize America wasn’t free from conflict then either. But I also remember something that feels harder to find today. People seemed more willing to celebrate together even while they disagreed.

Fast forward fifty years.

As America turns 250, the fireworks are still launched, the flags still wave, and families still gather. Yet something feels different.

Before many celebrations even begin, conversations often turn into debates. A flag can become a statement. A song can become controversial. Even wishing someone a “Happy Fourth of July” can sometimes feel as though it carries assumptions about what you believe.

Some people see only America’s greatness.
Others see only America’s failures.
Many feel as though they must choose one or the other.

But perhaps that’s the wrong question.
Maybe maturity isn’t pretending our history is flawless.
And maybe maturity isn’t believing our history is hopeless.
Perhaps maturity is having the courage to hold both gratitude and honesty in the same hands.

To celebrate what is good.
To acknowledge what needs healing.
To keep working toward something better.

I’ve often wondered whether we’ve become more divided – or whether we simply carry our divisions louder than ever before.

In 1976, disagreements certainly existed. They were real. But they didn’t seem to define every relationship or dominate every conversation the way they often do today. We didn’t carry the world’s arguments in our pockets. Today, every notification, every headline, and every algorithm has a way of reminding us what separates us. The loudest voices travel the fastest, while quiet acts of kindness rarely become breaking news.

Yet every week, I meet another America.
I see volunteers serving meals without asking who someone voted for.
I watch neighbors help neighbors after difficult days.
I sit with people whose lives couldn’t look more different, yet who still laugh around the same table.
I see healthcare workers, nonprofit leaders, pastors, business owners, first responders, teachers, and volunteers working side by side because the needs in front of them matter more than the differences between them.

That America still exists.
It just doesn’t trend.

Maybe that’s why I still have hope.

Because America has never been held together by unanimous opinions.
She’s been held together by ordinary people who choose to keep showing up for one another.

Perhaps that’s the invitation of our 250th birthday.
Not simply to ask what America has been.
Not simply to argue about what America should become.

But to ask ourselves:
What kind of neighbor will I be?

Because nations aren’t ultimately shaped only in capitals.
They’re shaped on front porches.
In schools.
At dinner tables.
In churches.
At community centers.
At neighborhood barbecues.
In conversations where listening matters more than winning.

Two hundred and fifty candles illuminate a remarkable story.
Not a perfect one.
But a story still being written.

The next chapter won’t be determined only by elected officials, commentators, or the loudest voices online.

It will also be written by ordinary people who decide that hope is still worth choosing, kindness is still worth offering, truth can still be spoken with grace, and unity is still worth pursuing.

As we celebrate 250 years of America, perhaps the greatest act of patriotism isn’t proving we’re right.
Perhaps it’s proving we’re still willing to love our neighbors.

Happy Birthday, America.

May we become as committed to one another as we are to celebrating another year.