For Sean M. Langley
Lance Corporal, United States Marine Corps
August 2, 1984 – November 4, 2004

Sean was my boyfriend, and he was a Marine. He sustained fatal injuries in battle and later succumbed to those wounds after being medevaced out. He was loyal, courageous, hilarious, intelligent, and effortlessly charming. People didn’t like him because he blended in or tried to please everyone; people liked him because he was him. Likable. Lovable. Irreplaceable.

Born on August 2, 1984, Sean was the son of William J. Langley, Assistant Police Chief with the Department of Veterans Affairs (retired), and Tricia M. Langley, Police Officer with the Lexington Police Department (retired). Service ran in his blood.

Sean served in the 2nd Battalion, 5th Marine Regiment, 1st Marine Division, 1st Marine Expeditionary Force, based at Camp Pendleton, California. When he was killed, he was on his second tour in Iraq, this time defending his country in Ramadi, Al Anbar Province. He was 20 years old and he would be 41 today.

It is not lost on me that today’s Verse of the Day on my Bible app is 2 Timothy 4:7 (ESV):
“I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.”

Paul wrote those words knowing that his earthly life was drawing to a close. He reflected on his journey with clarity, peace, and resolve.

Over the years, I’ve connected many verses to Sean: John 15:13, Psalm 144:1, Matthew 5:4…but never once this one. Not because it wasn’t fitting, but because I never wanted to consider that Sean was ever “ready” to die. It’s uncomfortable to think about. But time has taught me that wanting to die and being prepared to face death are not the same.

When Sean signed on the dotted line, as so many have, he understood the reality. It wasn’t abstract to him. He knew the risk. And what did he do? He went anyway.

Paul could have walked away from Christ, saved himself, and lived longer. He didn’t. He kept going, faithful to the end.

Sean did too.

He could have requested a medical hold for injuries he already had. He had every legitimate reason to stay in the United States. But he made promises to the families of his brothers that he would be there, and he kept those promises. He was exactly where he chose to be: beside his brothers, fulfilling his duty, watching their six. To be angry about that dishonors not only his choice but his sacrifice.

Years later, when I was in A School at Lackland, I met two Marines who had served with Sean in a Base Exchange cafeteria at Fort Sam Houston. Out of all the Marines I could have bumped into… it was them. They told me they loved him, that he kept his word, that he watched over every one of them. I never saw those men again, but I think about them often.

Tonight marks twenty-one years since Sean’s passing.

I took the kids to Waffle House, one of Sean’s favorite places. We used to meet there all the time when he was home. I would order double-covered, double hashbrowns. Sean, obviously, got waffles. God, that boy loved waffles.

I had never taken the kids with me before when I honored Sean in my own way; this was not because I didn’t want them to know him, but because I didn’t want them to see me break down. But tonight, I took them. Why? Through my journey of faith, I have come to see Sean not only in John 15:13, but also in 2 Timothy 4:7, which gave me peace about taking them with me this evening.

We sat in a booth and ate. I read my Bible. Abby asked questions about Sean. Sammy flirted shamelessly with the waitress and told her he liked her hair. (Smooth, son.)

I know Sean would have loved them. I know he would have adored hanging out with them. And I know they would have loved him just as much. Even though they’ve never met him, they now carry his story as someone who loved their mom well and inspired her to become a stronger version of herself.

Sean used to say “The Reason” by Hoobastank was our song. I always found that sad before he passed, because the lyrics are about apologizing…about trying to be better. Sean never needed to change for anyone, least of all me. I listen to that song now and realize that, though he didn’t mean it this way, he was my reason in those early days of grief until I fully found my footing in Jesus, the One in whose presence Sean now rests, eternally safe.

So the song he once claimed as his perspective toward me is now the song I sing back to him. And the verse I never associated with him is now written on my heart forever.

Because Sean fought the good fight.
He finished his race.
He kept the faith.

And after all, the motto of the Marines, Semper Fidelis, means “always faithful.”

This verse showing up today, on the anniversary of Sean’s death, a Marine who lived out “Semper Fidelis,” is not a coincidence. It is God…clear and intentional.