Last night my four-year-old had a difficult time settling down to go to sleep, after having discovered her cousin will come for a visit this weekend and they will swim at the motel; I must have put her back in bed 3-4 times. Finally, around midnight, after wrapping up the days work, I went up to bed myself. There, curled up in *my* bed, on her dad's pillow, was my littlest angel. I almost took a picture... it was enough to just about burst my heart. She is still there, and I may just go back up and lie next to her until she wakes up. Just because.
But as I helped my older daughter prepare for her school-day, the news was on, and they were discussing the new president's budget and the billions upon billions in "programs" and the taxes going up for the "rich"... I've lost track of it all at this point, as the whole thing is so disturbingly incomprehensible to me. Maybe I am out of the loop of reality, but on Valentine's Day, I was in Fargo. The mall parking lots were jam-packed. The restaurants were all full to overflowing. As we drove over 13th Avenue on the I-29 overpass, I looked down at the beehive of activity below and commented on how we really must be in severe economic crisis to have all those dollars flowing like water beneath us... Ironically enough, the only parking lot which sat nearly empty was that of the Saver's thrift store.
And yet, our government is selling my children into indentured servitude, crying that “Something MUST BE DONE!!!” Oh, really? Is the situation so dire that we must sacrifice our children to appease the gods of economic stimulus? Those in power in this nation are mortgaging the futures of my children and of my grandchildren and their descendants, as well. I am so outraged, in the manner of a mother bear protecting her cubs. How dare they sell *my *children to finance their own self-interests, their pork-barrel spending, to establish themselves as so-called heroes and saviors?!
As a child, I was so thankful that I did not have to grow up in a communist country, thankful that I was free and could be whatever I wanted to be in life and the future was my own. I knew that if an American worked hard and saved and invested, with a little luck, he or she could live in a nice home, send their children to college and enjoy a comfortable retirement, maybe travel a bit and enjoy life. That if an entrepreneur had a great idea and worked hard and found success, he or she could make even more money, create jobs, build their communities, and spread the wealth just by doing business, paying their employees and buying the luxury items for which they worked so hard. Entrepreneurs do not work their asses off just to make life great for the guy who sweeps their shop floor; they do it because they dream of success and the goods and services that come with that success... the trips, the toys, the homes, and the experience that hard work and money can buy.
It may at first appear self-serving, but the truth is that not only does that businessman profit from his success, every person below him on the food chain does, as well. Everyone, from his accountant to his mistress's manicurist, benefits.
But, tax the hell out of that businessman, decide *for* him who should benefit from his investment and risk-taking, take half of what he makes, right off the top, and he will tell you to go to hell. He will tell his mistress to paint her own damn nails, maybe sweep the shop floor himself, maybe even say the hell with it, and cut his losses, close that shop and retire while he's still ahead rather than throw good money after bad. Why should he spend his time working for the government, who then decides that some field mouse in Virginia needs three million dollars for research?
Hmmm... Suddenly that manicurist and shop helper and even that accountant... they start to feel the pinch. The truck driver, who once delivered that businessman's whiz-bang inventions to Wal-Mart, feels the pinch. Those folks then cannot pay the bills they incurred when the hog appeared to be fat, juicy and immortal...
And while I digress, and that example is ridiculously simplified, I am scared to death for my children. I want them to grow up free. I want them, when they give, to give freely and for the right reasons, to give from the heart, rather than to have what they earn taken at gun-point and distributed as the government sees fit. I want them to work hard for themselves, and dream, and grow, and use the talents God gave them to bless others, rather than to grow a government which will, in turn, keep them in bondage!
I believe there are a lot of people who feel as I do. All of this is certainly reinforcing my self-sufficient and survivalist mentality, and I will make an even greater effort to teach my kids how to care for themselves and feed their families and live a good life without dependence on the government or anyone else. The day is coming when no monetary transaction will be allowed to (legally) take place unless each micro-chipped and tracked individual involved is in full compliance with the powers-that-be. It’s my job, as their mother, to fight that oppression and teach my children to fight it as well... to fight for their freedom and independence.
If we do not stand up and fight... and I mean, *everyone* who has income or rights to lose in our government's quest for complete power and control... everyone from farmers to 1%er motorcycle clubs to entrepreneurs to stay-at-home-mothers... if we do not stand up and fight, we are responsible for the inevitable slavery of ourselves and our children to our own government. If we fail, all of the men who fought and bled and died so that we could live free will have done so in vain. All of the ass-busting, dirty and thankless work our forefathers did to build this country and hand us the American Dream on a silver platter, will be for naught. I, for one, respect and appreciate the efforts of my ancestors and those who died for my freedom enough to protect and defend the freedoms and successes for which they sacrificed.
Wake up and get off your asses, people... no one is going to save us from this if we don't fight. The Messiah came 2000 years ago... and He does not live in a big White House in Washington.