Descended

That long-dreaded day arrived this morn.

All of men’s wicked machinations have brought us this day. Make no mistake: this is not the triumph of some great cause; it is the downfall of our nation. The judges and the lawmakers and the governors and the presidents have had their hands in this work. So have the lawyers and the editors and the other monsters of iniquity that we all are.

While our brave are bleeding and dying in strange lands for our liberty, we are injuring and murdering our innocent in our homeland.

Didn’t we think, over thirty years ago, that we were beginning that headlong journey to destruction at a quickened pace? Have we not learned from the rotting carcasses of millions that we are slouching toward Gomorrah at breakneck speed?

How did we get here? We arrived–or, perhaps, descended–here by tolerating the intolerable. We have elected men we didn’t trust to do jobs we knew they wouldn’t do because of promises they couldn’t keep. They make excuses by telling stories that we can’t believe and change the subject to other things. They purport to make law by declaration–the whims of their immoral souls.

Patrick Henry declared that death was as good as tyranny. Our judges have decided that we will have our cake and eat it, too. Well, eating is only figurative in one woman’s case. But the decision is certainly to serve her both tyranny and death. There is no liberty for Terri Schiavo.

Those judges from whose hands blood drips have behind them choirs singing their own anthems of praise. Selfish praise for selfish men. Those representatives and senators and governors and presidents sing their own unending praise.

Some sainted men will make their stand. But what of these government “leaders”? They’ll do what’s within the law, they say. Pray tell, what law says that women should be starved? Now, is it a crime to eat? And if a law of men says so, what law of God?

Before this ends, will we see those judges, lawmakers, governors, and presidents come to aid the innocent? Or, perhaps, they’d prefer their own comfort, as most may. Will they be there, in chains, if necessary? The chains of the slavemaster are no burden for truth.

Better men from better ages with better minds had better hearts. Yes, we’re all sinners but some have given in to God. Yet, in our time, men laud themselves with praise and adulation–and turn no ear to cries for mercy. All is well for them; they’ll be there after she has starved.

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