I am proud to be an American. I love the U.S.A., but for the life of me, I’m saddened that we seem to be moving in a direction lacking common sense and fairness, and I keep calling out to Jesus to heal our land.
Example #1: My friend spent years attempting to become a legal citizen, to pay the $600, to study for the naturalization test (including ridiculous questions about the First Intercontinental Congress). I realize that, as Christians, we are to care for the less fortunate, but Covid-positive illegals are entering our country, boarding our busses and traveling to various states. We legals can’t do that. When I leave Mexico to return to the United States in a few weeks, I will need a negative Covid test within 72 hours of my flight. The airline will look at my document before allowing me to board the plane. (And yes, I would rather have a Covid test than swim the Rio Grande, but that’s not the point.)
Example #2: Hard-working citizens want their businesses to open. I have watched my granddaughter, a California beautician, be jobless for the past nine months. (Unfortunately for her, Nancy Pelosi is not her client.) My friend’s restaurants are allowed a 25% capacity—not enough to pay the wages of the employees. I don’t get it. Mexico restaurants are open. Customers’ temperatures are taken, hand sanitizer is used, and social distancing is required.
But not in America. Only in America are there more penalties for re-opening our own business than for looting and destroying someone else’s.
Example #3: “I acted in a way that made people feel uncomfortable,” said New York Governor Cuomo, explaining his behavior concerning the sexual harassment charges facing him. “Uncomfortable”? Is there a better euphemism? I’m uncomfortable if I relax on a hard chair with no cushion for more than 30 minutes. If I sit on the ground and try to get up, without the aid of Dave or a piece of furniture to help. If my friend tries on a pair of pants that clearly are two sizes too small and wants my opinion. But “uncomfortable” as a reference for his alleged victims’ feelings? Not the right word.
Example #4: This morning I was in a Bible study with two women from Seattle. Because homelessness has been allowed to overtake their area, they no longer travel into the heart of the city where they grew up. They are overwhelmed by the bombardment at street corners by pan-handlers. The tent-cities dominate the sidewalks where businesses once thrived. A problem that started out small has overtaken their beloved hometown.
Example #5: Newscasters call our country systemically racist, pointing fingers at we whites. Well, I’m confused. Could that work both ways? Could blacks be racist towards whites? I’ve certainly experienced it, yet that doesn’t keep me from loving my black friends. Or admiring them. In college I hung with the black freshmen girls who tried to teach me the latest dance steps. In the baseball world, several of our close friends were black, and in today’s society, I am in awe of the dominance of blacks with athletic/musical/artistic/academic talents. Yet I am “racist” because I’m not a fan of B.L.M. God knows my heart. No one else does.
Example #6: In the “Pandemic Stimulus Package” 91% of our tax dollars are funding everything BUT Covid relief. That bill has more pork than my great aunt’s 450-pound sow. Here are two specifics: (1) $1.5 million for the Seaway International Bridge between Massena, New York, and Canada, and (2) $100 million toward construction of an underground rail line linking House Speaker Nancy Pelosi’s San Francisco district and Silicon Valley. H-E-L-L-O! Those are OUR tax dollars, folks.
Talks abound that Jesus is coming soon. I don’t know if he is or isn’t, so I continue to pray for my country that I will demonstrate love, especially to those with whom I so vehemently disagree. That’s all I know to do. I hope they do the same for me.