As an old woman who still bows her head when the Last Post sounds, I feel the weight of ANZAC Day deep in my bones. I remember my grandfather's stories, his Bible stained with mud from the Western Front. I remember the silence of the men who came home and the absence of the boys who never did. And as I sit quietly each April 25th, wrapped in the soft rustle of gum leaves and the sorrow of memory, I whisper these words from Scripture:

"Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends." — John 15:13

Our ANZACs knew this kind of love. Not a love of slogans or fleeting sentiment, but a love anchored in duty, in country, and in something greater than themselves. Many of them carried a Bible in their pack—some never opened, some read to the end. But it was there, close to their hearts, even when the bullets came.

Today, our country is adrift. Too many no longer know what it means to lay down anything for anyone. We are drowning in selfishness, pride, and apathy. ANZAC Day reminds us what real sacrifice looks like. It is a sharp rebuke to our modern comfort and a call to repentance.

"Stand at the crossroads and look; ask for the ancient paths, ask where the good way is, and walk in it, and you will find rest for your souls." — Jeremiah 6:16

The ANZACs walked the ancient path of honour and courage. They didn't go to Gallipoli or Tobruk or Kokoda for glory. They went because their mothers raised them to know right from wrong. They went because they loved their homeland. They went because, in their day, boys became men through obedience and sacrifice—not rebellion and entitlement.

We have strayed far from those ancient paths. Today, young people are told to "find their truth" instead of seek first the Kingdom of God (Matthew 6:33). They are fed a diet of globalist lies that tell them patriotism is dangerous, masculinity is toxic, and the Christian faith is outdated.

But I am here to say that the Christian values that built this nation are not outdated—they are eternal.

"Blessed is the nation whose God is the Lord, the people he chose for his inheritance." — Psalm 33:12

Our Lord blessed this nation once, and He can do it again—if we return to Him.

That's what ANZAC Day should be: not just a remembrance, but a rededication. A return to the God who gave us our strength, and a commitment to raise sons and daughters worthy of the legacy we've inherited.

I pray for this nation daily—not just for safety or success, but for righteousness, for truth, and for the fear of the Lord, which is the beginning of wisdom (Proverbs 9:10). I pray for strong men to rise again. I pray for our women to raise them, not weaken them. I pray for a church that speaks boldly and a government that trembles before God, not foreign powers.

And I pray that this generation learns the same lesson my father taught me when I was a girl, watching the ANZAC parade in a country town: freedom is not free. It was bought with blood, and it is preserved by vigilance, prayer, and sacrifice.

"Be on your guard; stand firm in the faith; be courageous; be strong." — 1 Corinthians 16:13

This ANZAC Day, let us weep for the fallen—but let us also stand firm, like they did. Let us raise the banner of Christ over this nation once more. Let us teach our children that there are things worth dying for: truth, righteousness, country, and the Gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ.

Lest we forget—not just their sacrifice, but the God who gave them strength.