Every day, 24 hours a day, since the 1930s, the sentries of the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier at Arlington National Cemetary (badgeholders, as they are called) have honored their command to protect and defend that tomb. Regardless of circumstances, they have been ordered to hold their watch, and never abandon their post. Yet, on September 19, 2003, as Hurricane Isabel barraged the Nation's Capital with driving rain and nearly 100mph winds, the sentitels charged with guarding that sacred space were granted permission, for the first time in its history, to stand down to seek shelter.Yet that was not a permission they were willing to act on. NBC news reported at that time:

“They told us that. But that’s not what’s going to happen,” said Sgt. Christopher Holmes, standing vigil on overnight duty. “That’s never an option for us. It went in one ear and right out the other.” ...

With the fierce storm bearing down Thursday night, cemetery officials decided to let the guards move indoors if they felt they were in danger. Cemetery Superintendent John Metzler said he believed it was the first time they have been allowed to do so.

“We certainly didn’t want to put these guards in jeopardy unnecessarily,” Metzler said. ...

Holmes’ group was on duty for 24 hours, from 6 a.m. Thursday until 6 a.m. Friday. They took turns patrolling the tomb in hourly shifts. ...

“Once you become a badgeholder, it’s like you’ll do whatever you have to do to guard the unknowns,” [Staff Sgt. Alfred] Lanier said. “For one, it’s my job. And for two, that’s just how much respect I myself have for the unknowns. That’s just something we cherish.”

Famed Christian author and speaker, Dennis Rainey, had this to add:

In 2003, Hurricane Isabel slammed into the East Coast of the United States, lashing North Carolina and Virginia, then moving northward all the way to Canada, leaving 16 dead and cutting power to six million homes. The edges of the hurricane passed through Washington, D.C., prompting the president and members of Congress to find safer quarters.

That was not the case at Arlington National Cemetery, where guards have relentlessly stood vigil at the Tomb of the Unknowns every hour of every day since July 1, 1937. When the hurricane hit, the soldiers remained at their posts even though they were given permission to seek shelter.

That’s what a soldier does. He acknowledges the storm, but he doesn’t give in to it. He stands firm. As a friend told me, 'If these men can stand guard over the dead, how much more important is it that I stand guard over the living—my wife and children?'

Like these soldiers, we are called to stand and do our duty while staring down the very storms that seek to rob us of courage, taunting and tempting us to neglect our duty and abandon our posts. ...

Sometimes we can fear showing even very simple, clear acts of love. Many fathers rarely tell their children that they love them. The National Center for Fathering reports, from the informal surveying of fathers that only about 3-4% of fathers tell their children that they love them on a consistent basis. It’s not that they don’t love their children, they do, and they often desperately want to tell their children that they love them. But they don’t because they’re afraid of how their children might respond.

According to the Center:

Our words—or sometimes our lack of words—can either bless or discourage our children for their entire lives. And we’ve heard all the excuses: 'They know how much I love them.' 'I don’t want my son to get a big head.' 'It just isn’t what we do in our family.' But those are just excuses. If we know how much it benefits our children, there’s really no reason we shouldn’t say it.

Fear often causes us to shrink back from doing what we know we "ought" to do, causing us to lean into excuses.

But the Center assures us:

... [T]hose three words, spoken with sincerity and backed up by behavior, can demonstrate support, encouragement, tenderness, and caring as much as anything else we do as fathers.

My father grew up in the Depression era in a leaky and cold house.  He said, in winter months, he could sometimes have snow in his bedroom. The house was not well insulated, so the wind could bring a chill. Though the conditions were difficult, he never questioned the loved of his father.

One frigid night, my father woke up and was thirsty.  He called out to his dad and asked him for some water. They did not have running water in the house, so my grandfather had to go outside in the cold to get a cup of water. My dad could hear the floor creaking as my grandfather stepped through the dark house. He heard the door open and the ice breaking as my grandfather got the water from a bucket that had frozen over.

As my grandfather brought the cup of water to my dad's bedside, my dad said he had never felt so loved as he did in that moment. His father had sacrificed his own comfort to satisfy my dad's thirst. What a great example of a father's love.