This year, the United States turns 250 years old. For a nation, that is both a long time and no time at all.
Long enough to have endured civil war, economic hardship, and extraordinary change. Yet, young enough that the story still feels unfinished.
Perhaps that is what makes this milestone worth reflecting on. Not the age of our nation, nor even its accomplishments, but the enduring belief at its core: that tomorrow can be better than today.
More than any monument, or institution, that belief is America’s greatest inheritance.
It carried a young nation through revolution, drew immigrants across oceans, inspired generations of builders and innovators, and transformed a bold experiment into one of history’s most remarkable stories. Yet every generation has faced moments of doubt. Moments when the future felt uncertain, when the country seemed divided, and when progress felt out of reach.
And every generation inherited an unfinished project.
Not perfection. Not agreement. Not even prosperity.
But the American story has always belonged to those with the audacity to imagine something better and the courage to pursue it.
Today, there is no shortage of reasons to be concerned. We see political polarization, and growing anxiety about whether future generations will enjoy the same opportunities as those who came before.
These concerns deserve our attention. But they should not diminish our perspective.
The people who came before us did not build during moments of certainty. They built amid uncertainty.
They started businesses that might fail.
They invested in ideas that might never succeed.
They created institutions they hoped would outlive them.
That is what stewardship looks like. And perhaps stewardship is the real challenge before us as America approaches 250.
We are temporary custodians of something much larger than ourselves.
Here in the Pacific Northwest, that responsibility feels especially tangible.
The region we inherited was once someone else’s vision of the future. The roads we travel, the institutions we rely upon, the companies that employ millions, and the communities we call home exist because previous generations invested in possibilities they would never fully see realized.
A timber town grew into a port city. A port city fueled an aerospace center. An aerospace center created a global hub of technology and innovation.
None of those transformations were inevitable.
They happened because previous generations chose to build rather than retreat, invest rather than wait, and imagine possibilities beyond the challenges of their day.
We are not owners of that legacy.
We are its stewards.
The same is true for America.
The nation we celebrate today was not handed to us fully formed. It was shaped, improved, challenged, and expanded by generations who understood the obligations as well as benefits that stewardship carries.
One day, this country will belong to people who have never heard our names, just as we inherited America from people we never knew.
We must also acknowledge the Native American people that lived on and cared for these lands for thousands of years before our founding. Whose cultures, traditions, contributions and communities remain foundational to our identity. Our responsibility now is to decide what future we are leaving behind and whether we have the courage to build it.