Baby Erik and the Old Man…

Unconditional Love. Would you give the one you love the most to remove the sins of people who turned against you?

Acts 10:34, 35 “And Peter opened his mouth and said, of a truth I perceive that God is no respecter of persons: but in every nation he that fears him, and works righteousness, is acceptable to him.”

 Luke 18:17 “Truly I say to you, whoever does not accept and receive and welcome the kingdom of God like a little child shall not in any way enter it.”

Baby Erik and the Old Man

We were the only family with children in the restaurant. I sat Erik in a high chair and noticed everyone was quietly eating and talking. Suddenly, Erik squealed with glee and said, “Hi there.” He pounded his fat baby hands on the high-chair tray. His eyes were wide with excitement and his mouth was bared in a toothless grin. He wriggled and giggled with merriment.

I looked around and saw the source of his merriment. It was a man with a tattered rag of a coat; dirty, greasy and worn. His pants were baggy with a zipper at half-mast and his toes poked out of would-be shoes. His shirt was dirty and his hair was uncombed and unwashed. His whiskers were too short to be called a beard and his nose was so varicose it looked like a road map.

We were too far from him to smell, but I was sure he smelled. His hands waved and flapped on loose wrists. “Hi there, baby; hi there, big boy. I see yak, buster,” the man said to Erik.

My husband and I exchanged looks, “What do we do?” Erik continued to laugh and answer, “Hi, hi there.”

Everyone in the restaurant noticed and looked at us and then at the man. The old geezer was creating a nuisance with my beautiful baby. Our meal came and the man began shouting from across the room, “Do yak know patty cake? Do you know peek-a-boo? Hey, look, he knows peek-a-boo.” Nobody thought the old man was cute.

My husband and I were embarrassed. We ate in silence; all except for Erik, who was running through his repertoire for the admiring skid-row bum, who in turn, reciprocated with his cute comments.

We finally got through the meal and headed for the door. My husband went to pay the check and told me to meet him in the parking lot. The old man sat poised between me and the door. “Lord, just let me out of here before he speaks to me or Erik,” I prayed.

As I drew closer to the man, I turned my back trying to side-step him and avoid any air he might be breathing. As I did, Erik leaned over my arm, reaching with both arms in a baby’s “pick-me-up” position.

Before I could stop him, Erik had propelled himself from my arms to the man’s. Suddenly a very old smelly man and a very young baby consummated their love relationship. Erik in an act of total trust, love, and submission laid his tiny head upon the man’s ragged shoulder.

The man’s eyes closed, and I saw tears hover beneath his lashes. His
aged hands full of grime, pain, and hard labor — gently, so gently, cradled my baby’s bottom and stroked his back.

No two beings have ever loved so deeply for so short a time. I stood
awestruck. The old man rocked and cradled Erik in his arms for a moment, and then his eyes opened and set squarely on mine. He said in a firm commanding voice, “You take care of this baby.”

Somehow I managed, “I will,” from a throat that contained a stone.

He pried Erik from his chest — unwillingly, longingly, as though he was in pain. I received my baby, and the man said, “God bless you, ma’am, you’ve given me my Christmas gift.”

I said nothing more than a muttered thanks. With Erik in my arms, I ran for the car. My husband was wondering why I was crying and holding Erik so tightly, and why I was saying, “My God, my God, forgive me.”

I had just witnessed Christ’s love shown through the innocence of a tiny Child who saw no sin, who made no judgment; a child who saw a soul, and a mother who saw a suit of clothes.

I was a Christian who was blind, holding a child who was not. I felt it was God asking — “Are you willing to share your son for a moment?” — When He shared His for all eternity.

The ragged old man, unwittingly, had reminded me, “To enter the Kingdom of God, we must become as little children.”

Romans 2:11 “For there is no respect of persons with God.”

Luke 18:17 “Truly I say to you, whoever does not accept and receive and welcome the kingdom of God like a little child shall not in any way enter it.”

Advertisements

Thoughts from within the Room…

Heb 9:27, 28 “And as it is appointed for men to die once, but after this the judgment, so Christ was offered once to bear the sins of many.”

Thoughts from within the Room

17-year-old Brian Moore had only a short time to write something for the Fellowship of Christian Athletes meeting.  It was his turn to lead the discussion so he sat down and wrote.  He showed the essay, titled “The Room” to his mother, Beth, before he headed out the door. “I wowed ’em.” he later told his father, Bruce. “It’s a killer, it’s the bomb. It’s the best thing I ever wrote.” It also was the last.
Brian’s parents had forgotten about the essay when a cousin
found it while cleaning out the teenager’s locker at Teary Valley High School. Brian had been dead only hours, but his parents desperately wanted every piece of his life near them — the crepe paper that had adorned his locker during his senior football season, notes from classmates and teachers, and his homework.
Only two months before, he had handwritten the essay about encountering Jesus in a file room full of cards detailing every moment of the teen’s life. But it was only after Brian’s death that Beth and Bruce Moore realized that their son had described his view of heaven. “It makes such an impact that people want to share it. You feel like you are there.” Mr. Moore said.
Brian Moore died May 27, 1997, — the day after Memorial Day. He was driving home from a friend’s house when his car went off Bulen-Pierce Road in Pickaway County and struck a utility pole. He emerged from the wreck unharmed but stepped on a downed power line and was electrocuted. Brian seemed to excel at everything he did. He was an honor student. He told his parents he loved them “a hundred times a day”, Mrs. Moore said.
He was a star wide receiver for the Teary’s Valley Football team and had earned a four-year scholarship to Capital University in Columbus because of his athletic and academic abilities. He took it upon himself to learn how to help a fellow student who used a wheelchair at school. During one homecoming ceremony, Brian walked on his tiptoes so that the girl he was escorting wouldn’t be embarrassed about being taller than him.
He adored his kid brother, Bruce, now 14. He often escorted his grandmother, Evelyn Moore, who lives in Columbus, to church. “I always called him the “deep thinker”, Evelyn said of her eldest grandson. Two years after his death, his family still struggles to understand why Brian was taken from them.
They find comfort at the cemetery where Brian is buried, just a few blocks from their home. They visit daily. A candle and dozens of silk and real flowers keep vigil over the grave site. The Moore’s framed a copy of Brian’s essay and hung it among the family portraits in the living room.
“I think God used him to make a point. I think we were meant to find it and make something out of it, “Mrs. Moore said of the essay. She and her husband want to share their son’s vision of life after death.

“I’m happy for Brian. I know he’s in heaven. I know I’ll see him again someday.”

Mrs. Moore said. “It just hurts so badly now.”

The Room…
In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in the room. There were no distinguishing features except for the one wall covered with small index card files. They were like the ones in libraries that list titles by author or subject in alphabetical order. But these files, which stretched from floor to ceiling and seemingly endless in either direction, had very different headings.
As I drew near the wall of files, the first to catch my attention was one that read “Girls I have liked.” I opened it and began flipping through the cards. I quickly shut it, shocked to realize that I recognized the names written on each one. And then without being told, I knew exactly where I was.
This lifeless room with its small files was a crude catalog system for my life. Here were written the actions of my every moment, big and small, in a detail my memory couldn’t match. A sense of wonder and curiosity, coupled with horror, stirred within me as I began randomly opening files and exploring their content. Some brought joy and sweet memories; others a sense of shame and regret so intense that I would look over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching.
A file named “Friends” was next to one marked “Friends I have betrayed.” The titles ranged from the mundane to the outright weird. “Books I Have Read,” “Lies I Have Told,” “Comfort I have Given,” “Jokes I Have Laughed at.” Some were almost hilarious in their exactness: “Things I’ve yelled at my brothers.” Others I couldn’t laugh at: “Things I Have Done in My Anger” “Things I Have Muttered under my breath at my Parents.” I never ceased to be surprised by the contents.
Often there were many more cards than I expected. Sometimes fewer than I hoped.  I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the life I had lived.  Could it be possible that I had the time in my years to write each of these thousands or even millions of cards? But each card confirmed this truth. Each was written in my own handwriting.
Each signed with my signature. When I pulled out the file marked “Songs I have listened to,” I realized the files grew to contain their contents. The cards were packed tightly and yet after two or three yards, I hadn’t found the end of the file. I shut it, shamed, not so much by the quality of music but more by the vast time I knew that file represented.
When I came to a file marked “Lustful Thoughts,” I felt a chill run through my body.  I pulled the file out only an inch, not willing to test its size, and drew out a card. I shuddered at its detailed content. I felt sick to think that such a moment had been recorded. An almost animal rage broke on me. One thought dominated my mind: No one must ever see these cards!  No one must ever see this room! I have to destroy them!”
In insane frenzy I yanked the file out. Its size didn’t matter now. I had to empty it and burn the cards. But as I took it at one end and began pounding it on the floor, I could not dislodge a single card. I became desperate and pulled out a card, only to find it as strong as steel when I tried to tear it. Defeated and utterly helpless, I returned the file to its slot. Leaning my forehead against the wall, I let out a long, self-pitying sigh.
And then I saw it. The title bore “People I Have Shared the Gospel with.” The handle was brighter than those around it, newer, almost unused. I pulled on its handle and a small box not more than three inches long fell into my hands. I could count the cards it contained on one hand.
And then the tears came. I began to weep.  Sobs so deep that they hurt. They started in my stomach and shook through me. I fell on my knees and cried. I cried out of shame, from the overwhelming shame of it all. The rows of file shelves swirled in my tear-filled eyes. No one must ever, ever know of this room. I must lock it up and hide the key.
But then as I pushed away the tears, I saw Him. No, please not Him. Not here. Oh, anyone but Jesus. I watched helplessly as He began to open the files and read the cards. I couldn’t bear to watch His response. And in the moments I could bring myself to look at His face, I saw a sorrow deeper than my own.  He seemed to intuitively go to the worst boxes.  Why did He have to read every one?
Finally He turned and looked at me from across the room. He looked at me with pity in His eyes. But this was a pity that didn’t anger me.  I dropped my head, covered my face with my hands and began to cry again. He walked over and put His arm around me. He could have said so many things. But He didn’t say a word. He just cried with me. Then He got up and walked back to the wall of files. Starting at one end of the room, He took out a file and, one by one, began to sign His name over mine on each card.
“No!” I shouted rushing to Him. All I could find to say was “No, no, as I pulled the card from Him. His name shouldn’t be on these cards. But there it was, written in red so rich, so dark, and so alive. The name of Jesus covered mine. It was written with His blood. He gently took the card back. He smiled a sad smile and began to sign the cards. I don’t think I’ll ever understand how He did it so quickly, but the next instant it seemed I heard Him close the last file and walk back to my side. He placed His hand on my shoulder and said, “It is finished.”

I stood up, and He led me out of the room. There was no lock on its door. There were still cards to be written.

II Cor 5:21 “For He became sin for us Who knew not sin, that we might be made the righteousness of God, in Him”

Listen Long then MAYBE Speak….

Listen Long then MAYBE Speak !

When is the last time you said something you wanted to take back but could not?
Once it leaves your lips it is history! The solution is to think much longer and harder and
louder than we speak!

The tonque may be the toughest things in life to control!!!

Proverbs 17:28 “Even a fool, when he holds his peace, is counted wise: and he that shuts his mouth is esteemed a man of understanding.”

Phil 2:14,15 “Do all things without murmurings and disputings: that you may be blameless and harmless, the sons of God, without rebuke, in the midst of a crooked and perverse nation, among whom you shine as lights in the world.”

Before you try speaking this morning try to;

James 1:19 “So then, my beloved brethren, let every man be swift to hear, slow to speak, slow to wrath;”

Yes, God is Real….

II Tim 3:16,17 “All scripture is given by the inspiration of God
and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for
instruction in righteousness that the man of God may be made perfect, thoroughly furnished until all good works.”

Take the Ant you Sluggard

Taken from a note written by Dr Dewey Hodges with minor additions.

This was created mainly for the high school
students wanting to make a good impression during
the first few weeks of the new school year. But as
you will see if offers yet another piece of evidence
for those needing to accept that our God is real.

Science was never my strong suit, but a few
years ago I learned some fascinating things
about ants. It’s likely that you have never
heard this before, and you can share something
totally new with your class (of course, adults
can impress their friends with this as well).

Here’s a condensed version of some basic
information about ants, taken from a Web site
at the University of Arizona, entitled “Adult
Males and Females”, and from your home encyclopedia.

When ant colonies reproduce, the new queens
and males may be found in the colony. These are
“flying ants” and have two pairs of wings.

Males generally have small heads, large eyes,
large thoraces, and a pair of claspers at the end of
the gaster. Once they fly (and mate), males do not
live very long.

After mating, new queens break off their wings
and never fly again. Without wings, they can
generally be distinguished from workers by their
larger body size, larger thorax and larger abdomen.
All workers are females.

Most of us who have had the most basic science
classes in high school and college (that would
definitely include me) have heard about the
dominance of female ants over males. I don’t
know exactly when this first became accepted as
fact by the scientific community, but given the
size of an ant, it makes sense that it has been
since the advent of the microscope, which has
been within the past 300 or so years.

Now go back about 3,000 years, to the book of
Proverbs, the sixth chapter, verses 6-8: “Go to the ant,
thou sluggard; consider her ways, and be wise: Which
having no guide, overseer, or ruler, Provideth her meat
in the summer, and gathereth her food in the harvest”.

At first glance, some people might say, “So?

There are verses about ants in the Bible. Big deal.”
But look at how the ants in these verses are identified.
There has been a bit of controversy in recent months over
a new translation of the Bible which removes virtually
every reference to gender. It has been well-received in
some circles and highly criticized in others.

Part of the motivation for creating this new
translation was the long-standing allegation that the
Bible has always been sexist. Of course, that is a pile
of garbage, but a look at the use of gender-specific
language in the King James Version, which I have quoted
here, is relevant to our discussion.

The pronouns she and her are used 2,442 times in
the entire Bible, according to a search engine at bible.com.
The pronouns he, him and his are used 21,182 times. That’s
a huge difference, which some might say fuels the gender
discrimination argument.

But if you believe that every word in the Bible is
important and inspired by God the Holy Spirit, or even if
you don’t, you can easily gather from these numbers that
whenever a female pronoun is used in the Bible, it is used
intentionally. That brings us back to our ants.

Go to the ant, thou sluggard; consider her ways,
and be wise…

The ant cited in Proverbs is a female ant. If the
Bible were sexist, wouldn’t it assume the important ants
were male? Perhaps, unless the Author, who is God, knew for
a fact that the females were the ones he was talking about.
And the Author inspired His scribe to record this fact. A
Creator usually would know those facts.

How did Solomon know? He didn’t have a microscope
back then. There was absolutely no way humanly possible
to find out. So he either took a wild guess, or he found
out from God.

II Peter 1;20,21 tells us that God is the Author of
scripture and those privileged to be the scribes were
actually documenting God’s word instead of their own wisdom.
Now we’re starting to walk by faith and likely making many
uncomfortable. The letters of Paul, John, Peter, etc are in
actuality not their teachings but that of God. Scripture
takes on a much more meaningful tone with that in mind and
as we also keep from giving credit for its content and power
to men versus God. And of course that explains how Solomon
knew about those ants.

And of course this further means there actually is a
God, and He may be the Creator after all. We’re getting way
beyond science now. According to evolutionists and nearly
everybody else who determines what passes for science in
schools, we’re dabbling dangerously close to religion.

Maybe it is catastrophic to remove God from the origin
teaching in our schools. Or by allowing the public school
to be the tool to educate our families on topics they are
not equipped to teach on. Better stop that right now.

On second thought, forget about mentioning this
in class, especially in a public school. There’s no
telling what the reaction would be. Or just maybe it is
an appropriate topic if we are to be the light and the
salt of this world!!?? Remembering that if the salt has
lost its seasoning power than what good is it??

II Tim 3:16, 17 “All scripture is given by the inspiration of God…”
Gen 1:1a”In the beginning God created…” Amen!

How is your seasoning this morning?

Moses and the Lessons of Life….

Exodus 3:13-15 “And Moses said unto God, Behold, when I come unto the children of Israel, and shall say unto them, The God of your fathers hath sent me unto you; and they shall say to me, What is his name? What shall I say unto them? And God said unto Moses, I AM THAT I AM: and he said, Thus shalt thou say unto the children of Israel, I AM hath sent me unto you. And God said moreover unto Moses, Thus shalt thou say unto the children of Israel, The Lord God of your fathers, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob, hath sent me unto you: this is my name for ever, and this is my memorial unto all generations.”

Moses and the lessons of Life…

While going through an airport during one of his many trips, former President Bush encountered a man with long gray hair, wearing a white robe and sandals, holding a staff.

President Bush went up to the man and said, “Has anyone told you that you look like Moses?”

The man didn’t answer. He just kept staring straight ahead.

The President said, “Moses!” in a loud voice.

The man just stared ahead, never acknowledging the President. The president pulled a Secret Service agent aside and, pointing to the robed man, asked him, “Am I crazy or does that man not look like Moses to you?”

The Secret Service agent looked at the man and agreed.

“Well,” said the president, “every time I say his name, he ignores me and stares straight ahead, refusing to speak. Watch!”

Again the President yelled, “Moses!” and again the man ignored him.

The Secret Service agent went up to the man in the white robe and whispered, “You look just like Moses.

Are you Moses?”

The man leaned over and whispered back, “Yes, I am Moses. However, the last time I talked to a bush, I spent 40 years wandering in the desert and ended up leading my people to the only spot in the entire Middle East where there was no oil.”

But, Moses did recognize and praise God for His loving guidance.

Psalm 7:17 “I will praise the Lord according to his righteousness: and will sing praise to the name of the Lord most high.”

Columbine School Reminder….

Luke 9:23 “If anyone will come after Me, let them deny themselves, take
up their cross daily, and follow Me
.”

Subject: TESTIMONY OF DARRELL SCOTT BEFORE CONGRESS

Guess our national leaders didn’t expect this. Darrell Scott,
the father of Rachel Scott, a victim of the Columbine High School
shootings in Littleton, Colorado, was invited to address the House
Judiciary Committee’s subcommittee. What he said to our national leaders
during this special session of Congress was painfully truthful.
They were not prepared for what he was to say, nor was it received well.
It needs to be heard by every parent, every teacher, every politician,
every sociologist, every psychologist, and every so-called expert!

These courageous words spoken by Darrell Scott are powerful,
penetrating, and deeply personal. The following is a portion of the
transcript:
“Since the dawn of creation there has been both good & evil in the
hearts of men and women. We all contain the seeds of kindness or the
seeds of violence. The death of my wonderful daughter, Rachel Joy Scott,
and the deaths of that heroic teacher, and the other eleven children who
died must not be in vain.

Their blood cries out for answers.” “The first recorded act of
violence was when Cain slew his brother Abel out in the field. The
villain was not the club he used. Neither was it the NCA, the National
Club Association. The true killer was Cain, and the reason for the
murder could only be found in Cain’s heart. “In the days that followed
the Columbine tragedy, I was amazed at how quickly fingers began to be
pointed at groups such as the NRA. I am not a member of the NRA. I am
not a hunter. I do not even own a gun. I am not here to represent or
defend the NRA – because I don’t believe that they are responsible for
my daughter’s death.
Therefore I do not believe that they need to be defended. If I believed
they had anything to do with Rachel’s murder I would be their strongest
opponent.” I am here today to declare that

Columbine was not just a tragedy–it was a spiritual event that
should be forcing us to look at where the real blame lies! Much of the
blame lies here in this room. Much of the blame lies behind the pointing
fingers of the accusers themselves. I wrote a poem that expresses my
feelings best. This was written way before I knew I would be speaking
here today:

“Your laws ignore our deepest needs; Your words are empty air.
You’ve stripped away our heritage, You’ve outlawed simple prayer.
Now gunshots fill our classrooms, and precious children die. You seek
for answers everywhere, and ask the question “Why?” You regulate
restrictive laws, through legislative creed. And yet you fail to
understand, That God is what we need!” Men and women are three-part
beings. We all consist of body, soul, and spirit. When we refuse to
acknowledge a third part of our make-up, we create a void that allows
evil, prejudice, and hatred to rush in and wreak havoc.

Spiritual influences were present within our educational systems
for most of our nation’s history. Many of our major colleges began as
theological seminaries. This is a historical fact. What has happened to
us as a nation? We have refused to honor God, and in so doing, we open
the doors to hatred and violence. And when something as terrible as
Columbine’s tragedy occurs politicians immediately look for a scapegoat
such as the NRA.  They immediately seek to pass more restrictive laws
that contribute to erode away our personal and private liberties. We do
not need more restrictive laws.

Eric and Dylan would not have been stopped by metal detectors.
No amount of gun laws can stop someone who spends months planning this
type of massacre. The real villain lies within our own hearts. Political
posturing and restrictive legislation are not the answers. The young
people of our nation hold the key. There is a spiritual awakening taking
place that will not be squelched!

We do not need more religion. We do not need more gaudy
television evangelists spewing out verbal religious garbage. We do not
need more million dollar church buildings built while people with basic
needs are being ignored. We do need a change of heart and a humble
acknowledgment that this nation was founded on the principle of simple
trust in God!”

“As my son Craig lay under that table in the school library and
saw his two friends murdered before his very eyes, He did not hesitate
to pray in school. I defy any law or politician to deny him that right!
I challenge every young person in America, and around the world, to
realize that on April 20, 1999, at Columbine High School prayer was
brought back to our schools. Do not let the many prayers offered by
those students be in vain.

Dare to move into the new millennium with a sacred disregard for
legislation that violates your God-given right to communicate with Him.
To those of you who would point your finger at the NRA- I give to you a
sincere challenge. Dare to examine your own heart before casting the
first stone!

My daughter’s death will not be in vain! The young people of
this country will not allow that to happen!”

How bold are you in proclaiming God’s word?

Luke 9:26 “For whoever is ashamed of Me and My words, of him the Son of
Man will be ashamed when He comes in His own glory, and in His Father’s,
and the holy angels.”

In God we Trust….

Romans 13:1a “Let every soul be subject to the governing authorities…”

In God we Trust…..

The one dollar bill you’re looking at first came off the presses in 1957 in its present design. This so-called paper money is in fact a cotton and linen blend, with red and blue minute silk fibers running through it. It is actually material. We’ve all washed it without it falling apart. A special blend of ink is used, the contents we will never know.

It is overprinted with symbols and then it is starched to make it water resistant and pressed to give it that nice crisp look. If you look on the front of the bill, you will see the scales for the balanced budget. In the center you have a carpenter’s T-square, a tool used for an even cut. Underneath is the Key to the United States Treasury. That’s all pretty easy to figure out, but what is on the back of that dollar bill is something we should all know.

If you turn the bill over, you will see two circles. Both circles, together, comprise the Great Seal of the United States. The First Continental Congress requested that Benjamin Franklin and a group of men come up with a Seal.

It took them four years to accomplish this task and another two years to get it approved. If you look at the left-hand circle, you will see a Pyramid. Notice the face is lighted and the western side is dark. This country was just beginning. We had not begun to explore the West or decided what we could do for Western Civilization.

The Pyramid is uncapped, again signifying that we were not even close to being finished. Inside the capstone you have the all-seeing eye, an ancient symbol for divinity. It was Franklin’s belief that one man couldn’t do it alone, but a group of men, with the help of God, could do anything.

“IN GOD WE TRUST” is on this currency. The Latin above the pyramid, ANNUIT COEPTIS, means, “God has favored our undertaking.” The Latin below the pyramid, NOVUS ORDO SECLORUM means, “A new order has begun.” At the base of the pyramid is the Roman numeral for 1776.

If you look at the right-hand circle, and check it carefully, you will learn that it is on every National Cemetery in the United States. It is also on the Parade of Flags Walkway at the Bushnell, Florida National Cemetery and is the centerpiece of most heroes’ monuments. Slightly modified, it is the seal of the President of the United States and it is always visible whenever he speaks; yet no one knows what the symbols mean.

The Bald Eagle was selected as a symbol for victory for two reasons: first, he is not afraid of a storm; he is strong and he is smart enough to soar above it. Secondly, he wears no material crown. We had just broken from the King of England.

Also, notice the shield is unsupported. This country can now stand on its own. At the top of that shield you have a white bar signifying congress, a unifying factor. We were coming together as one nation. In the Eagle’s beak you will read,

“E PLURIBUS UNUM”, meaning “one nation from many people.” Above the Eagle you have thirteen stars representing the original colonies, and any clouds of misunderstanding rolling away. Again, we were coming together as one. Notice what the Eagle holds in his talons. He holds an olive branch and arrows. This country wants peace, but we will never be afraid to fight to preserve peace. The Eagle always wants to face the olive branch, but in time of war, his gaze turns toward the arrows.

In God we trust is still as relevant as when the founders of our country placed it on our currency. If not, then our nation is in big trouble.

Romans 13:1 “Let every soul be subject to the governing authorities. For there
is no authority except from God, and the authorities that exist are appointed by God.”