It doesn’t feel right to be at war when everything here seems so normal

I can’t stop thinking about the hundreds of funerals happening each day in the Middle East. I think about the families of the 13 U.S. soldiers killed this month near Iran, and the many Americans who have been wounded, their lives permanently changed.

Last Sunday, I sat in church and listened closely. Not one prayer mentioned what is happening overseas or asked for the safety of our soldiers. We talked about loving our neighbor and the importance of families. We sang. We visited. We went home.

Then life moved along as it always does.

At the grocery store, people complained about the price of meat, vegetables and coffee, then filled their carts anyway.

This morning, I lay in a comfortable bed, adjusting the temperature with the push of a button, thinking about the day ahead.

At the same time, halfway across the world, bombs are falling.

In one of the deadliest strikes so far, a school in Iran was hit, killing well over a hundred people, most of them children. Iran has responded by attacking ships and threatening the Strait of Hormuz, one of the most critical shipping routes on earth.

Cities across the region are on edge. Missiles, drones and airstrikes have become part of daily life. Across more than 20 countries, people live under the constant threat of sudden violence. Israel, America’s partner in this conflict, has carried out strikes in Lebanon, hitting neighborhoods that look a lot like ours, places where kids play, neighbors talk over fences and families argue about what to watch on TV. Today, many of those families are grieving.

And here? I stop at Maverik to pick up a maple bar and debate whether to add a fritter.

We can argue about whether this war is justified, about political leaders and decisions, about right and wrong. But one thing is not up for debate: innocent people are dying.

Everywhere I’ve ever been, whether in Wyoming, California or in huge foreign cities, people want the same basic things. They want to be with the people they love. They want to laugh, share meals, remember the past and hope for a better future.

For many, that simple life has been shattered.

As a kid, I remember old newspapers with massive headlines hanging in history classrooms. “Remember the Lusitania,” “Japan Bombs Pearl Harbor,” “Germany Invades France and Belgium.” When the stakes were that high, the country knew it.

That is why the Constitution gives Congress the power to declare war, placing that responsibility in the hands of 535 elected representatives from every corner of the country. The decision should feel weighty and painful. When the consequences are measured in thousands of lives, the choice to go to war should bring sleepless nights, serious debate and real moral anguish, not be reduced to a meme battle on social media.

If the crisis is this serious, it should feel like it. It should show up in our conversations, our prayers and our daily lives.

If American soldiers are dying, if Iranian children are dying, if thousands are burying the dead, then something is out of balance when life here carries on almost unchanged.

If American soldiers are asked to give their lives, we should mark that sacrifice with flags at half staff and honor them with dignity. And if we claim we are trying to make Iran a safer place, then we should openly debate what that means and how Americans can help bring an end to their suffering and quickly stand with those who mourn.