I come by it naturally, I suppose. Growing up, I can remember that my sister’s (who is 9 years older than me) friends, or one of my older cousins, always seemed to be camped out on our living room couch. My Mother and Daddy always seemed to be running a counseling service for those teenagers who were having trouble with their parents, or coping with life in general.
My Daddy was everybody’s Father Confessor. As I’ve written before, he was the finest man I have ever known. A WWII veteran, who survived landing at Normandy and cleaning out the Concentration Camps, equally as strong in his love for Jesus Christ, as he was in combat. The love he showed to everyone, from newborns to octogenarians, was embedded in me, as a living example of my Savior’s love.
And. now that I’m 54, I find myself mimicking my earthly Father, while being led by my Heavenly One. Looking back, I was the guy in high school and college, that the girls would come to to talk about how badly their boyfriends were treating them. And then, as a young adult, working out 6 times a week, I would be the first one friends would ask to help move them. Of course, that also was due to the fact that I drove a Dodge Dakota long-bed pickup truck. During that time, as a member of a young adult singing group, I often found myself singing at nursing homes, to an audience of appreciative octogenarians.
I was also the guy, whom young couples would get to baby-sit their kids, so they could have a night out. Go figure.
Anyway, in 2010, I started writing as a way to vent my frustrations with the injustice I saw happening around me. A fellow patriot, who I became friends with at the Conservative website, hotair.com, then operated by the great Conservative, Michelle Malkin, boasting the pen name of “Manly Rash” (I kid you not), offered me the opportunity to post on his Blog, which I did, for a while, until I started my own in April of 2010.
God has given me the opportunity to speak out for what is right and just, and I don’t intend to stop doing that any time soon.
All that being said, yesterday I saw a photograph of the Pro-Abortion Paid Protesters, still disrupting the Legislative Session in Austin, Texas. These worshipers of Molech are protesting for the right to murder any potential Child of God, growing in their womb, up to the third trimester.
The word “ghoulish” somehow does not even seem to begin to cover it.
Anyway, to describe this photograph would not do it justice. I am going to reprint it and show it to you here. Please forgive me, gentle readers, because if you are like me, this image will haunt you for a while.
What sort of sick and twisted “Mother” would raise their precious young girl to do something like this?
For that matter, look at the case of Trayvon Martin’s Mother. The second thing she did, after getting Barack Obama and the Justice Brothers involved in her 17 year old thug son’s death, is to copyright his name, and begin to make money off of his image as an innocent 12 year old, which, of course, he was not.
I have never been able to stomach mistreatment of children. I know it is because of my upbringing, in a stable Christian home. Nowadays, that familial situation, which my generation was so familiar with, is becoming more and more scare. In fact, it’s on the Obama’ Administration’s Hit List. You see, Liberals, Progressives, socialists, Alinskyites, worshipers of Molech, or whatever you want to call these yahoos, , want the “gub’mit”, good ol’ Uncle Sugar, to raise , educate, and pay for (with OUR tax money) their “chirren”.
Oh…they also want US to pay for the killing of their “inconvenient” babies, as well.
These “parents”, if they are not “Pookies”, sitting around on the couch, drinking Purple drank and smoking Blunts all day, while waiting on their “benefits”, are middle-class, self-absorbed , materialistic heathens, who are 30 year old adolescents, caring more about their own careers and social lives, than they are about leading a child “in the way in which they should go”.
The children, in both instances, are left to fend for themselves, and grow up thinking that the behavior they see on television and at home, is the behavior of every adult in America.
And, that is how that young woman, a child basically, wound up holding that vulgar sign, in the Capitol Building in Austin, Texas.
In the church I grew up in, in one of the Sunday School classrooms, was a painting of Jesus, seated, with a child on his lap, surrounded by little children, smiling and talking to them.
As a child growing up, I thought to myself, how great that must have to been to have Him for a friend.
Then, as I became older, I realized that I already did.
It breaks my heart that this young girl, standing holding a vulgar sign in Austin, Texas, and Trayvon Martin, now being made a meal of by Race-Baiting Vultures, were not introduced to such a Friend.
He would have made all the difference in their young lives.
Until He Comes,