Updates on our LEO–one heartbeat at a time….


(Sgt. Rob Holloway’s officer code, 229)

LEO–Law Enforcement Officer.

I wanted to offer an update on Sgt. Rob Holloway, the husband of my
longtime colleague and friend Stephanie.

If you’ve read my posts as of late, you will recall that Rob was a
Carrollton City (west Georgia) police officer who was shot in the head
while responding to a county-wide call for assistance during a shooting
and high speed chase in the wee hours
of a Monday morning three weeks ago.

Rob was shot in the head by the fleeing suspects, and subsequently crashed
his patrol car into a utility pole.

The bullet remains lodged in his brain while the surgeons had no choice
but to remove part of the right lobe of his brain.

Rob spent two weeks in Atlanta’s Grady Trauma unit and was recently
transferred to Atlanta’s Piedmont Shepherd Spinal Hospital for rehab.

One thing I will always remember about my years of working with
Stephanie was her enthusiasm and positive high spirit.

Stephanie is much younger than I am, yet she taught my son when he
was in high school and assisted me when we implemented a food pantry
for our at risk kids.

It seems that both Grady’s trauma center and the Shepherd’s Spinal Rehab
have each played important roles in the lives of several of our school’s
extended family.

A few years back our beloved basketball coach was involved in a near
fatal bicycle accident.
He was life flighted to Grady and eventually transferred to Shepherd.

We all read his wife’s daily journal postings regarding his progress
on Caringbridge.

And now once again our Carrollton City School System,
along with extended friends and family, are reading the progress
of another member of our city’s family as they struggle to
survive a life threatening injury.

I am including the last three posts offered by Stephanie regarding
her husband Rob’s progress.

In a word, it is “miraculous.”

Stephanie references our school system’s superintendent Dr. Mark Albertus.
When I was still teaching, Dr. Albertus was my last principal.
He was promoted to superintendent following my retirement.

Mark is a former military officer and father of 4.
I considered myself fortunate for having him as my “final” principal.

The last two principals, out of a total of 8, were truly men of God.

Stephanie references a book that Mark had his school’s leadership team
read.
It is a book that she is now reading to Rob.

I am amazed by both Rob and Stephanie.

Their faith is so very tangible.

While this nation reels over so much drama as it works its way
to outright socialism…while groups such as Antifa and
Black Lives Matters vie for supremacy as a weak and truly
weak minded president struggles to find a way to lead a waywardly
lost nation—the lives of our first responders are in grave
jeopardy.

Please take the time to read Stephanie’s latest three postings.
Find joy and hope–just as I have…

May 5, 2021
Journal Entry by Stephanie Holloway — May 5, 2021
Hey friends!

Wow!
What a wonderful day!
Rob woke up around 7:00 a.m. ready to get started marking things off of his list.
He started the day by taking a shower with his occupational therapist and a tech.
The tech was able to help him walk from the bed to the shower
and sit on a shower bench.
The therapist helped him shower, wash his hair, and get dressed.
Then the tech helped him walk all the way back to his chair.
It was miraculous!

After his shower, he was served breakfast in the room.
Today, we had his usual – scrambled eggs, grits with cream cheese, and yogurt.
While I was mixing the cream cheese in his grits,
he started eating the eggs all by himself.
He was almost finished with them by the time I was able to finish the grits.
🙂
He ate almost all of his breakfast and fed himself.
All of his medications have been converted to a pill form so
‘that he can take everything orally.
He is doing that well, too.

After breakfast, Robbie went to recreational therapy,
speech therapy, and then physical therapy.
Once he got back to the room after physical therapy,
he was weighed to see if we could take out the feeding tube.
He gained two pounds, and since all his blood work and vitals are still good,
the feeding tube was removed!!!
Praise God!
The process was quick and a little uncomfortable,
but he took it like a champ.
Then, he was ready for his lunch.
His speech therapist brought him another sampler plate,
and Robbie was able to eat two slices of London broil, pasta, a bowl of fruit,
and his frosty.
He said it was delicious and was so grateful he is able
to eat a regular meal.
The speech therapist is going to see how he does tonight and tomorrow,
and if all is well, he will be moved up to the next level on his diet.
No more shredded, mushy meals!

After his lunch, he had about an hour break before his neuropsychological evaluation.
So, we reclined his chair and he took a little power nap.
He worked with the neuropsychologist and was able to recall about 75%
of the information that she shared with him.
This is a great starting place.
When she brought him back to the room, he was ready for
a real nap in his bed.
He napped for a couple of hours while I worked a little.

When he woke up, it was almost time for dinner.
We were able to get him out of the bed without using the lift
and we were also able to mark two things off his goal list:
(1) removing the feeding tube and
(2) not being required to sleep with with the mitts of shame.
It felt really good to strike those two things off his list.
Once dinner arrived, we learned that his speech therapist and his dietician
had permitted him to have regular foods.
He was served tortilla-crusted tilapia and macaroni and cheese.
I tried one bite of each, and they were both delicious.
He enjoyed dinner, and then we were able to mark something else off his list:
(3) eating real food instead of pureed.

Dr. Albertus (our school superintendent) purchases the district leadership team
a book every summer that we read and study together.
Last year, he gave us the book, Make Your Bed by Admiral William H. McRaven.
The lessons discussed in each chapter are very fitting
for many situations in life.
Dr. Albertus said he asks his children to read it during their senior year,
so I had Grady read it with me last summer.
It’s an incredible book and a very easy read.
If you have not read it, I strongly recommend it.
Anyway, the book discusses overcoming obstacles within the context
of Navy Seal training, but the author applies the lessons
he learned to other situations in life.
I felt it was very applicable to what Robbie is experiencing right now,
so I started reading it to him this morning.
We got through the first chapter, and he loved it.
Tonight after dinner, he wanted to continue reading it.
Like a good teacher, I checked for understanding before I started
the second chapter this evening.
He remembered a lot of the details from the first chapter,
so I was very excited and quickly began reading the second chapter.
I was about halfway finished with the second chapter when he said,
“Steph, I’m sorry but I’m ready for bed.”
So, his tech and I got him settled into bed.
His nurse gave him his evening medications,
and he is sleeping soundly beside me.
He did ask me and his nurse to make sure he was up tomorrow
for “his training.”

Robbie’s medical team is meeting tomorrow after lunch.
My prayer is that they have enough information
collected with his evaluations to give us some idea of a timeline
of our stay at Shepherd.
I do not want to leave here until Robbie is ready physically,
mentally, psychologically, etc.,
but I desperately hope we can be home before Grady’s birthday and graduation.
Grady will turn 18 on May 26th, and he will graduate with honors on May 28th.
So, if you would like to help me pray for Rob to be well
enough to be home for Grady’s birthday,
I would greatly appreciate your help.
Also, please help me pray for Rob to have the strength,
willpower, and endurance to accomplish his goals.
I cannot wait to tell you what goal we cross off his list tomorrow.
Until then, may God richly bless you and your family.

Love,
🙂 Steph

May 6, 2021
Journal Entry by Stephanie Holloway — 23 hours ago
Hey friends!

Today was so amazing!
There are several things we were able to check off of Robbie’s goal list today.
But, I will not get too ahead of myself.
Let me start from the beginning.

Last night was the first night Robbie was able to sleep
without the feeding tube and mitts.
Every night before, his nurses came into our room every three hours
and rotated him from laying on his left side, laying on his back,
and laying on his right side.
Last night, every time the nurses would rotate him,
he would roll over another way.
This is great news because now they may not have to turn him any longer.
They will just check to make sure he is not staying
in the same position all night long.

We both slept really well and woke up refreshed and ready for the day.
Robbie freaked out a little thinking he had overslept
and I had let him miss therapy.
If you have traveled anywhere with me,
I make a schedule for every day.
I do not want to waste a minute,
and so I plan out my entire trip.
My family makes fun of me.
So, can you believe he would think I would let him oversleep?
As if!
Lol! 🙂

When his breakfast was served, we were surprised to find bacon
accompanying his scrambled eggs, grits, and yogurt.
I make a picture of his meal before and after he eats
to share with his dietician and his speech therapist.
They are tracking his food and liquid intake to make sure
he is eating and drinking enough.
Before I could take the “before” photo of his breakfast,
he grabbed a piece of bacon and had the entire thing in his mouth!
Needless to say, he ate well for breakfast even if my before picture
did not capture the entire meal.
After he ate breakfast, we read Chapter 2 of Make Your Bed,
and the lesson for this chapter was so timely
for our current living situation.
We were both in tears when we finished it.

Rob’s morning was full of therapy,
so I worked from about 9:30 – 11:00 a.m.
At 11:00 a.m., I was on the phone speaking with a member of our family,
and the door opened, and Robbie was standing there!
I almost fell out of my chair.
He walked from the therapy room all the way to our hospital room.
He had his therapist there with him and supporting him,
but it was him! Standing!
Walking!
He was exhausted by the time he returned to the room,
so his therapist helped me get him settled into bed,
and he slept until his lunch arrived.
But, wow! I
t took my breath away.
How great is our God!!!

Robbie was scheduled to have therapy again after lunch,
but his therapist invited me to join them for his physical therapy session.
She wanted to train me to help him walk so that I could help him in our room.
This was the highlight of my day!
I got to watch him walk with her, and she taught me how to do it as well.
We also traded in his big wheelchair for a smaller one that he can use
all by himself for longer distances.
After that, he continued therapy until around 3:00 p.m. while I worked.

His amazing nurse joined us when Rob returned to our room
to let us know she had the order to remove his staples
and take out his mid-line IV thingie in his arm.
I walked away while she did all that because I didn’t want
to faint and have to receive medical attention as well.
Lol!
Afterward, I was able to help him stand from his chair,
walk to the restroom, use the restroom standing like a man
(sorry I know that is gross, but it’s a big deal right now),
and then walk back to his bed for a nap.
What a victory!
That’s three more things off of his goal list!

After all of that excitement,
he enjoyed a nap until they brought his dinner.
He enjoyed his dinner, and then we decided to go to the garden again.
The weather was perfect, the garden was not crowded,
and we enjoyed every minute. We were able to sit together
and talk for a while, and then he wanted to call some of our family.
We lost track of time and the nurses had to come to
get us to go back inside.
Lol!

By the time we got back up to the room,
Robbie was ready for a bed bath and his night medications.
His tech helped me get him in bed, and his nurse administered his meds.
They were doing shift change though,
so I volunteered to bathe him and get him settled.
I love taking care of him. He takes such good care of me.
So, it did not take long for him to doze off, and he’s sleeping soundly
beside me now and looking forward to another miraculous day tomorrow.

Someone asked me how we stay so positive when this
road is so very difficult.
I want to be real with you.
There have been times where I have been terrified
of losing him or his condition worsening.
Every day has not been on the mountain top like today.
BUT, the answer to that question is simple and found in some scripture
that I’d like to share with you to digest this evening.
The pastor that married us had a verse he would quote often.
Philippians 4:8 reads,
“Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest,
whatsoever things are just,
whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely,
whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue,
and if there be any praise, think on these things.”
Even in the darkest moments of the last few weeks,
I could hear Brother David repeating these words.
It is easy to dwell on the negative and let fear consume you.
But, fear is the absence of faith and is not of God.
You have the power to change your thoughts and your words.
There is so much power in thinking and speaking positively.
So, we choose to focus on the positive and to fill our minds
and our speech with His Word.
We celebrate every victory, and we will not let fear or doubt cloud our minds.
When we are discouraged or afraid, we quote scripture.
It gives us peace and hope, and we focus on the end of this journey –
not the present.
We also have a huge support system and when I need a boost,
God always puts us on the mind of someone who will send me a text
or a Facebook message at that very moment when I need it.
There are a ton of things in our lives right now that are true,
honest, just, pure, lovely, of good report,
virtuous, and worthy of praise – we think on these things,
and I share these things with you.
So, if you are discouraged or afraid,
if you have had a rough day or even a string of rough days,
fix your mind on the things described in Philippians 4:8.
Cast your cares upon Him (1 Peter 5:7).
Your Father in Heaven loves you (John 3:16),
and we love you, too.

Thank you for walking this journey with us.
Your comments bless me so much, and one day,
Robbie will read this journal and your comments will bless him, too.
Until then, I’m trusting in his complete restoration and a graduation
day at Shepherd before Grady’s graduation day at CHS.
Have an amazing evening and a wonderful Friday.

Love,
🙂 Steph

May 7, 2021

Happy Friday, Friends!

I hope you all had a wonderful day today.

Our day was full of happy moments.

Rob and I both slept really well, and then we woke up and ate breakfast together today.

I ran downstairs to the cafeteria while he was still sleeping and picked up the same breakfast he had.  When I got back upstairs, I had a table set up for us both to have breakfast together.

We were able to get him dressed, transition him from his bed to the chair at the table,

and eat breakfast like normal.  He blessed the meal, fed himself while I ate,

and other than the location, it seemed like a normal meal together.

After breakfast, Robbie wanted to call and talk to my parents.

It’s the first time he has really spoken with both of them since his injury, and it was a tear-filled, joyous call.  After that, he had a morning full of therapy.

He worked on word puzzles with his speech therapist, played a card matching game

with his occupational therapist, and worked on sitting and standing without assistance and without using his hands for balance with his physical therapist.

When he got back to our room after his therapy today, he told me he spent the whole morning dominating card games and working on squats.  He was laughing and joking with the therapists,

and even laughed and joked with his doctor about his glasses.

By the time he returned to the room, he was exhausted and ready for a nap.

During Rob’s afternoon therapy sessions, the “games” his therapists used to help

test the limits of his memory and processing abilities frustrated him.

So, his physical therapist suggested we all go to the garden for her session and walk around the garden.

I loved that idea and jumped on the opportunity to participate in therapy with Robbie.

The weather was perfect in the garden, and there were several people enjoying the fresh air today with us.

His physical therapist parked his chair at the base of the ramp entering the garden and asked Robbie to go ahead and stand up.  She walked behind him providing support using his gait belt while I walked beside him holding his hand. 

His therapist would designate a target (bench, flower pot, etc) and ask Robbie to walk to it.  We would walk to the target area, rest a moment, and then stand back up and continue. 

We walked around the entire garden holding hands together.  It was so wonderful.  When we got back to the chair and ramp entering the building, Robbie did not want to sit down just yet. 

So, his therapist suggested they “try the steps.”  Rob said ok, and off they went. 

He walked up three steps into the building like he had been working on climbing steps all week. 

It happened so fast that I almost missed the video opportunity! 

Once we got back into the building, Rob wanted to walk all the way to the room. 

So, while he and his therapist walked together, I pushed the wheelchair. 

We walked around to the Shepherd Building elevators, rode up to the 2nd floor,

and walked all the way to our room.  By the time we got there, ‘

Robbie was exhausted and ready for a nap.  His spirit was triumphant though,

and he was smiling as he fell asleep.

While Robbie napped, I met with one of his therapists and we discussed his injury in great detail.

Rob has an acquired brain injury to the right hemisphere of his brain.

This injury causes him to have trouble with attention, perception, memory, and a loss of mobility on the left side of his body.   In the paperwork she shared with me, the right side of the brain also is in charge of “visual awareness, imagination, emotions, spatial abilities, face recognition, music awareness, 3D forms, interpreting social cues, left-hand control, and some math estimations and comparisons.  We discussed how this could impact his daily life; however, he has really been doing well in most of these areas this week.  We also discussed ways I can help him work to improve these areas and ways I could help keep him safe with deficits in these areas as we transition home.  While she believes we are still weeks away from going home, she did say that every brain injury is different and that it is still too early to even estimate a date we might get to go home.  So, I took this opportunity to remind her of the dates of Grady’s birthday and graduation ceremony.  She said that Robbie reminds all of them daily that he cannot miss these dates. She promised me that his team is keeping Grady’s week in mind when they plan. But, she also said Rob’s health and wellbeing will determine when he leaves Shepherd.

Robbie started waking up from his nap as I returned to his room.  I ran down to the cafeteria to get my food, picked up his meal tray, and we ate together again like normal.  After dinner, Robbie spoke with his mom for a little while and with Grady.  Then, he decided he wanted to sit in the big comfy chair in our room for a while because “his butt was going numb” in his chair.  So, I helped him move into the chair and put my feet beside him in the chair.  Then, he started rubbing my feet for a while while we talked about the day.   Before his injury, we would sit like this in the man cave and he would rub my feet the same way.  Right now, I’m enjoying the opportunity to take care of him, but it was so nice to slip back into our pre-April 12th routine.

After a while, he was tired and ready to get back in bed.  I helped him take a bed bath, changed his sheets and clothes, and helped him settle in bed.  His nurse came in and administered his evening medications, and he has been sleeping soundly for a while now.

I hope you all have a wonderful evening, and I’ll update you again on his progress tomorrow.   Luke 1:37

Love,
🙂 Steph

to he!! with…or rather a tender reminder…

I spent my junior year in Switzerland.
On the way back home, I spent some time in England,
and I remember going to Hyde Park Corner.
And there was a Roman Catholic priest in his collar,
standing on a soapbox, preaching the Catholic faith
and being heckled by a group.
And I thought, ‘My goodness.’
I thought that was admirable.

Antonin Scalia


(Families gathered at the Idaho Capitol building on Saturday, March 6, 2021,
to burn masks at a protest over COVID-19 restrictions.)

Ok, so today–I wanted to jump on the soapbox–
I wanted to jump on a box and shout at the top of my lungs that’s
it’s time to burn the masks!!!

I am so over the masks that I can’t stand it!

Two vaccines in and I’m still required to wear a freaking mask????
I can’t breathe…I know… where have we heard that phrase before??

But no, I can’t.

I wash them.
Yet the heaviness is undeniable.
I can’t see as my glasses constantly fog.

I can’t hear.
Because everything is muffled.

I can’t judge people’s reactions
My husband’s gazillion dollar hearing aids constantly flip out when he
attempts to put on and off the masks…
and as he’s gotten accustomed to reading lips…well, we can’t see lips.

I’m tired.
I’m sick…as in literally with upper respiratory infections…

So why after two vaccines do I still have to wear a mask??
Tell me the science there???

Yet rather than continuing this triad…something else stopped me in
my tracks today.

Bloom where you are planted.

Many many years ago–I can remember writing a letter to my godfather,
who was an Episcopal priest.
I wrote the letter when I was a freshman in college.

I was young, rather lost and truly seeking any and all direction
for my future.

One line from his response letter glared from the page…
“Bloom where you are planted”

Meaning…hang in there, wait were you are, because things will
begin to come to light…do your best where you are because
God is at work, right where you are…rest and trust…

So as there has been so much I’ve been wanting to say regarding
all the craziness taking place…
from the constant shootings and murders taking place daily in Chicago,
to the Anarchists destroying Seattle and Portland, to California,
to Wokeism, to the nonsense of systemic racism, to defunding the police,
to Minneapolis, Louisville, to Elizabeth City Tennessee…
to folks like LeBron James who use their lucrative limelight to play politics
and yet who fail to “get it”…to governors putting the kibosh
on their constituents by keeping their foot on the necks of freedom…
to false narratives, to a lack of real science masquerading as fear
mongering…to forcing 2 year olds to wearing masks…to the
maligning of our law enforcement, to people who don’t understand
that poor choices equate to poor outcomes.
That law is law whether we like it or not.
Your actions have direct outcomes…for good or bad.
It’s that simple.
Assinine!!!

All of this was percolating to the surface today in my mind while
I was driving along a picturesque country road.
The hay fields were sparkling under a brilliant April sun
all the while as I was ruminating on what I wanted to say and
how I wanted to say it via a blog post.
Yet suddenly, driving down the road, a school’s billboard caught my eye.

“Bloom where you are planted”

Whoa.

My godfather has been gone now for several years and
I miss him and his wisdom terribly…but here he was.
Grabbing my attention in a way that only he could.

Reminding me…hang in there, God is at work…be patient and make
certain that you do what you need to be doing right where you are…
there rest will fall into place…God is in charge… you are not.

fear not, for I am with you;
be not dismayed, for I am your God;
I will strengthen you, I will help you,
I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.

Isaiah 41:10

Steps moving forward…

This came yesterday morning from Stephanie’s Caringbridge post regarding
the progress of her husband Rob.

Remember, Rob is the Carrollton Police Officer who was shot in the head
exactly one week ago today during a high speed chase in Carroll County, Georgia.
His wife is a former long time teaching colleague and a dear old friend of mine.

They rushed Rob to Atlanta’s Grady Trauma Center.
The surgeons could not remove the bullet lodged in his brain but rather
had to remove a portion of the right lobe of his brain.

In an instant, lives were changed forever.

Three officers wounded.
One young man dead.
Another apprehended.
Three officers each rushed to trauma centers.
So many questions then remained.

This madness unfolded in but one small county in one state within 50 states.
50 states who each have their own daily and nightly violence that takes
place between the brazen and the police.

So many choices and so many lives change each and every day.

The news from Stephanie is so uplifting.
We know that Rob still has a long road to travel…but each day there is
tremendous progress.

And we thank God daily for these marvelous steps forward…

Good morning!
I have incredible news, and I could not wait to share it with everyone.
Our pastor sent me this Word this morning –
“And he said unto him, Arise, go thy way:
thy faith hath made thee whole – Luke 17:19.
Rob will be made whole.”
About 30 seconds after that text from him,
the officer with Rob right now and one of his closest friends sent me this text.
“Awesome news!
Just watched a neurosurgeon remove his last tube in his head and stitch him up…
She believes he is doing awesome and will be able to walk,
speak, and move as before.”
We are praising God for his complete healing,
and thanking you all for your prayers.
Have an amazing day in the house of the Lord today.
God is so good and worthy to be praised.
I’ll send another update later tonight. We love you!
🙂 Steph

when change is needed

When we are no longer able to change a situation –
we are challenged to change ourselves.

Viktor E. Frankl

For the last couple of days my posts have centered on, firstly,
the notion of tradition.
That thought then lead to the notion of change.
And not that I believe tradition needs to change…
quite the contrary.

But then the news hit close to home Monday when a friend’s husband, who happens
to be a police officer and was responding to an all-call for officers in the county
to respond to an immediate need to render aid to the Georgia State Patrol who were
actively involved with a high speed chase and shots being fired.

My friend, her husband the officer and their teenage son’s lives
have now changed forever.

The following link is to an Atlanta news station offering a video of one of
the suspects firing at other officers responding to the call following the shooting
of my friend’s husband.

https://www.fox5atlanta.com/news/video-suspect-seen-firing-multiple-rounds-directly-at-officers

These types of incidents are happening all over our country.
A police officer stops a car for a minor traffic offense and
suddenly the stop escalates into utter violence.

The driver and passengers pull out firearms and decide, rather than deal with
what would have been a routine traffic stop, they opt to shoot and run.

Why is that?

Law enforcement all over our country seem to have bullseyes on their backs.

But again, why is that?

Of course we are hearing the masses cry out that the police are targeting minorities.
That the police are profiling.
That the police are brutal.
And I’d agree that not all officers are good.
But the majority are good.
They are doing a job that is taken seriously.

And we, you and I, are the better for it.

So what would have precipitated all this negative thinking?
What has precipitated all the violence directed toward law enforcement
who are out simply doing their job?
What of this defund the police movement?

While all of this madness was swirling in my head, I happened upon the latest thinking by Newt Gingrich…but what does Newt know…he’s just some old white guy…

Consider these indicators that our civilization is beginning to fall apart.

Several days of looting and rioting in Minnesota have occurred even as a trial of a former policeman is underway proving the rule of law works.

A policeman is killed during a car stop in New Mexico, and our elites ignore the murder. In fact, Mayor Mike Elliott of Brooklyn Center, Minneapolis said in the middle of the rioting: “I don’t believe that officers need to necessarily have weapons, you know, every time they—they’re—they’re making traffic stop or engaged in situations that don’t necessarily call for weapons.”

There is a war on police underway with 264 killed in 2020, a jump of 96 percent over the previous year. In New York City, hostile forces use Molotov cocktails to set police cars on fire. Murder rates are skyrocketing around the country with 2020 the biggest one-year jump in homicides in American history – 36.7 percent.

Faced with aggressive criminal behavior and violence against innocent people – including young children being killed – Democratic Congresswoman Rashida Tlaib calls for “no more policing, incarceration and militarization.” Ironically, Rep. Tlaib represents Detroit. According to the City of Detroit’s 2020 Crime Report, there were 327 homicides in 2020, up from 275 the previous year – a 19 percent increase. There were 1,173 non-fatal shootings in 2020. This is up from 767 the previous year, which is a 53 percent increase.

In Seattle, Portland, and Milwaukee, no-go zones similar to those in France have been created which are effectively localized secessions from the United States.

Portland continues to be attacked nightly by anarchists. Despite pious statements by public officials, no effective action is underway to restore law and order.

In San Francisco, the declaration by the communist district attorney that theft under $900 will not be prosecuted has led to so much shoplifting that Walgreens is closing all 10 of its drugstores in the city.

The threat to American civilization goes far beyond violence in the streets.

Woke CEOs who refuse to condemn genocide and police state tyranny in China are quick to attack Georgia – even though President Joe Biden was just plain wrong (perhaps lying) about the state’s new election law. Moving the All-Star Game from Georgia to Colorado hurts Black small businesses (there are eight times as many employees of Black-owned businesses in Georgia than in Colorado). Furthermore, Colorado’s current voting laws are stricter than Georgia’s new ones. For the woke, it is virtue signaling – not fact – which matters.

The television establishment systematically lied to defeat President Donald Trump in the 2020 election. CNN’s Charlie Chester recently asserted: “I came to CNN to be a part of that. Look what we did, we [CNN] got Trump out. I am 100 percent going to say it, and I 100 percent believe that if it wasn’t for CNN, I don’t know that Trump would have got voted out…I came to CNN because I wanted to be a part of that.”

Of course, The New York Times, The Washington Post, MSNBC, NBC, CBS, and ABC would dispute any CNN claim that it alone defeated Trump. The two papers won Pulitzer Prizes for lying about Trump.

Traditional media hostility and dishonesty are overshadowed by the internet giants, who are increasingly acting like Russian oligarchs. They are trying to erase a leader who was supported by more than 75 million Americans with a ruthlessness worthy of Soviet tyranny and the Chinese Communist Party.

Crony capitalism is becoming bolder as big government and big business reinforce each other at the country’s expense.

Overt racism through race-based reparations, school quotas, and anti-white and anti-male curricula are a return to government-fueled discrimination and segregation.

Finally, when the state of California is considering requiring students to chant every day to an Aztec god who was the center of a human sacrifice cult, there are sound reasons to believe American Civilization is in crisis.

If we are going to remain America, we must oppose the forces trying to destroy us.

The Crisis of American Civilization

change is often sudden

“Grief does not change you, Hazel.
It reveals you.”

John Green, The Fault in Our Stars

For the past couple of days I’ve been ruminating of the notion of both change and tradition.

Today, or actually yesterday if you are reading this on Tuesday, the world of change hit me
in both the head and heart.

On Monday morning I had gotten a push notification from one of the Atlanta news channels.
There had been an early morning chase between a speeding car going 111 mph on I-20,
just outside of Carroll County…our former county home.
The Georgia State Patrol responded.

It was in the wee hours, around 3 AM—the car first complied by stopping for the State Patrolman,
but as soon as the officer exited his patrol car, the suspects suddenly opted to speed off.
Upon fleeing, the occupants of the car began firing from the car at the State Trooper.
The chase moved from the interstate into Carroll county proper…again, our former county.
Both local sheriffs and local police all responded.

The car fired upon a Carrollton Police Officer’s vehicle and two Carroll County
patrol cars.
Three law enforcement officers were shot.
The Carrollton Police Sergeant who responded to the call was shot and in turn
lost control of his vehicle, crashing into a power pole.
The suspects kept firing on each responding law enforcement vehicle.

Eventually, one of the suspects was killed while the other, a 22 year old male,
was apprehended and taken into custody.

I was doing my regular Monday morning grocery run when I got a text from a friend
back home.
She asked if I’d seen the news…the news about the chase and the three officers shot.

It turns out that the Carrollton sergeant who was shot, and in turn crashed,
is the husband to one of our friends and colleagues from school.

Suddenly the news becomes personal…
Time stops in the grocery store.

Lives change.
Poor and bad choices turn into a series of vicious cause and effects for
a myriad of people.

Sergeant Holloway, the Carrollton policeman, underwent surgery on Monday
but it was not as successful as hoped for…or rather it was just simply as successful
as it could be.
The next 72 hours will be the most critical for Rob’s recovery.

I ask that you will join me in prayers for these officers, their families as well
as prayers for the boys who opted to make devastating choices.

The great dragon was hurled down—that ancient serpent called the devil, or Satan,
who leads the whole world astray. He was hurled to the earth, and his angels with him.

Revelation 12:9

stand up now or soon, you won’t have the opportunity…blame it on the bats

Alleluia.
Christ is risen.
The Lord is risen indeed.
Alleluia.

Book of Common Prayer


The Resurrection of Christ, from the right wing of the Isenheim Altarpiece, c.1512-16 oil / Matthias Grünewald)

Christ has Risen—
Christ has risen indeed!
Amen…

We are resoundingly reminded of this little fact each Easter…
we are delightfully reminded that our hope remains intact and steadfast.

Growing up—Easter always meant a new pretty dress and shiny black patented leather shoes.
Sunny and bright…radiating light all for the most Holy day in all of Christendom.
Easter Sunday was such a festive and beautiful day despite the early spring weather
being unpredictable.

There was the deep and resounding pipe organ accompanying the rising crescendo of voices
ringing out that Jesus Christ had (has) risen today…

Jesus Christ is ris’n today, Alleluia!
our triumphant holy day, Alleluia!
who did once upon the cross Alleluia!
suffer to redeem our loss. Alleluia!

(Latin hymn, “Surrexit Christus hodie)

Holy, Holy Holy…

Sacred while full of joy.

Yet sadly, we took it for granted didn’t we?

We just assumed every Easter we’d dress up, go to Church, sing joyfully then
gather with family for a festive lunch and competitive Easter Egg hunts.

This joy came after the lead up of dying eggs, picking flowers, cooking foods we’d
fasted from for the previous 40 days…

We let it become systematic…routine.
We took it for granted.

We didn’t realize it then did we?
We didn’t realize it two years ago.

However, last year gave us a foreboding glimpse to what was to come
and I dare say, the majority of us didn’t see what would be coming.

Not here…not us.

We had a pandemic.

We shut down our world.

We shut down our lives…our jobs, our stores, our movies, our schools and
more importantly, our houses of worship.

But hey, we can do anything for the good of the whole for a few weeks right?

But it wasn’t a few weeks was it?

We are now over a year in…
and two Easters have since come and gone.

So what does any of this mean?

Well Christian participation, that of church worship attendance
in the US, is now for the first time ever, down below 50 percent.

Before I go much further, let me give my full disclosure here—
I do not regularly attend any particular church.
So before you start wagging fingers at me for assuming that I am
some sort of ‘do as I say but not as I do’ sort of individual…
My journey with my Anglican roots has been jolted to the core
over its frenzied and gleeful racing away from God’s word…
all the while it blindly races to embrace the world’s word…
a word that is a lie.

So I am waiting for His lead as to where I need to land.
But until that time, know that I cling to a deep Christian Spirituality.
The mysticism that is our faith.
The Mysticism embedded within a three time span.
A timeline that exists between betrayal, brutality, death, hell
and Resurrection.

So I caught a blog post about Christian persecution…modern day, 21st century
persecution.

It was shared by our friend Vincent over on Talmidimblogging

“More than 245 million Christians worldwide are enduring high levels of persecution
for their faith—from militant extremist groups like ISIS and Boko Haram
(an Islamic extremist group terrorizing West Africa),
to government law and the general culture that often sees converting
to Christianity as betrayal.

According to Open Doors’ 2019 World Watch List—an in-depth investigative report focusing
on the global persecution of Christians—persecution is increasing at an alarming rate.
That 245 million number is up this year from last year’s total of 215 million.

https://theologyschool.org/2021/04/04/christians-whose-lives-dont-matter/

The post highlights the top 10 nations from around the world who are trying to
silence Christians and eliminate the faithful and their faith.
Brutality
Torture
Kidnapping
Rape
Imprisonment
Death

The article however got me thinking.

Thinking about what we in the West take for granted.
We take our faith, our ability to go to our places of worship, all for granted.

We witnessed such on this past Easter Sunday both here and in Europe
where various masses and services were interrupted by law enforcement—interrupted
by the police for breaking pandemic protocol.

Where pastors and priests were reprimanded and even arrested for holding services with
their parishioners during a pandemic…
all the while secular events begin to open back up.

Police descending upon our houses of worship all the while rioters and protestors
continue their unchecked mayhem in our major cities—while thousands of immigrants
flood across our borders—the pandemic is allowed to fester due to our oh so woke
liberal minded leadership in what they allow to cross our borders by turning their
blind eyes.
They hammer home for everyone to get vaccinated yet they can’t even say that with the vaccine
things will ever get back to what they once were—as in going back to normal.

Control is an interesting thing.

Eating bats is also interesting.

It appears to be problematic— not only for the said consumer, but
apparently for the entire world.

We first saw that little problem with the Ebola outbreak a few years back…
Bats were the culprit then…and supposedly they are the culprit now.

Bats leading to the demise of Christianity in the 21st century?

I suppose stranger things have happened….

But if you are a Believer and you are beginning to wonder how much longer
the powers that be think they can curtail your right to publicly worship
you might want to speak up now…while you still legally have a voice.

Or you can just blame it on the bats and keep quiet.

Therefore, my beloved brothers, be steadfast, immovable,
always abounding in the work of the Lord,
knowing that in the Lord your labor is not in vain.

1 Corinthians 15:58

who you gonna call????

Most Christians don’t hear God’s voice because we’ve already decided
we aren’t going to do what He says.

Aiden Wilson Tozer

I had the best of intentions this morning, during fevered delirium, of writing a funny post
about honeybuns, aka formaldehyde wrapped in plastic…but my enthusiasm and energy have both waned.

Long story…my husband and I have had what we’ve figured to be the crud…
receiving said crud from time spent with a croupy Mayor.

Mine went to my sinuses, which is my typical MO…
But last night, at 3:20 AM, our home security alarm began blaring.
My husband who normally wears hearing aids, can’t hear squat without them…
not even a blaring siren…WOOOOOO WOOOOOO WOOOOOO

We have said system because my husband was in the jewelry business and we live in
the middle of nowhere on 5 acres off the road…
so call it a bit of peace of mind…or not.

So at 3:20 with a blaring alarm, I immediately jumped from the bed,
screaming at my husband that the alarm was going off as I flipped on the lights and ran
to check where the “breach” was located.

In the meantime, my husband scrambles to cut off his alarm clock because,
in his sleepy deaf state, he thinks I’m fussing because his alarm clock is going off.

I ran to the alarm pad—it read that the breach was at the windows in our closet…
the one just off our bedroom.

At that point the phone rings—it’s the alarm company.
The gal states that they have an alarm code breach coming from our home.

Naturally at 3:20 in the morning, when I’m in the middle of a possible break-in, I tend to
be a tad frantic.

My husband grabs his gun (yes he has a license and has had both hunting guns and a gun he
kept at the jewelry store. He was actually shot during an armed robbery a couple of years
before we met, so let’s just say he’s been cautious ever since.)

He proceeds to scope out the closet then walks through the house.
All the while, the girl on the phone asks “do you want me to dispatch the police?”

I practically scream to my husband “SHOULD SHE SEND THE POLICE!?”

See, I’m the kind of person who, when trouble comes calling,
I want the cavalry to come running.
But what with all this defund the police crap, it’s like Charles Barkley said,
“who you gonna call, Ghostbusters???”

But my husband said no…he thinks it was just glitchy wires.
Glitchy wires??!!
And yet I will say that Percy the cat was still nestled in his bed…
had someone been in the house, Percy would have been the first to hide.

We got back into bed and my husband falls readily to sleep.
Who does that?
I, on the other hand, lay there in the dark…listening.
Waiting for a chainsaw massacre psycho to come busting into our bedroom.
Like a little kid, I feel safer if I bury myself in the covers…like
no one can tell I’m in the bed…
eye-rolling obviously.

I keep listening.

Was someone outside?
Were they going to try another window or door?
The dark has a bad way of playing with our fears.
I pray while my ears play tricks on me.

Suddenly, I notice how very cold I am, and how achy I feel.
Great, I was running a fever.
I never run a fever unless it’s serious.

I laid there until daylight.
Balled up in a shivering clump hidden under the covers…just
waiting for daylight to know I was safe…sick, but safe.

At daybreak, I stutter from under the covers, “I think I’m dying.”
“What? says my deaf husband.
I ask my husband if he could please go get me the thermometer…
“And please make certain it’s ours and not the rectal one for the kids!!!”
I didn’t have on my glasses so I took my chances.

101.4

My husband showers and goes to make coffee…forgetting to feed the cats…
Who both proceed to jump on and off the bed until I stumble from bed, feeling like death,
in order to feed them.
He complains I never let him help enough around the house and yet the one morning of
death and dying, when his help would have been so greatly appreciated,
…well, he was sitting in his chair with his warm cup of coffee…
oblivious to 8 legs of bedlam.

I ask him rather indignantly why did he not feed the cats…
“I never saw them” he lazily responds.
“That’s because they were jumping all over me!!!”
Sigh…

I call the ENT’s office at 8.
Telling them of my ailments but would I need a COVID test first?
Oh no, the nurse tells me, we’ll do that here.

Oooo, a one-stop-shop—great!

Long story short…
I had a strep test, a flu test, and a COVID test.
While we waited on those tests to process, they took x-rays…“well you definitely have
a sinus infection”
the PA tells me—
and then blessedly the other tests came back negative.
YAY, I guess, because she said there are both false negatives and false positives…
And I still felt like crap.

Two shots and a prescription later…we still wonder.

And so now when you think you might have a cold, flu, virus…what was once simple and ordinary…
well, it is not so ordinary anymore…rather it is now very complicated.

How could I have gotten it?
I wear my mask at the grocery store…I really don’t go to many other places.

And then it hit me.

My husband’s hunting buddy jokingly handed me a honeybun the other day as my
birthday gift.
He knows I hate those things.
I think they could survive a nuclear bomb.
My dad loved them.
My husband’s buddy thought it was an appropriate and funny gift.
And yet I actually got him something nice and real.

And then two days later, this friend calls to tell us his wife, daughter, son in law, and two little
grandkids have tested positive.

And then it dawns on me…
It was the handoff of the honey bun!

So I’m to the point now that no one seems to know which is what.
Gather, don’t gather…mask, don’t mask…Thanksgiving, no Thanksgiving, false positives,
false negatives…vaccines, no vaccines

So maybe Charles is right…who ya gonna call??? Ghostbusters…??

Nahhh…

My Refuge and My Fortress
Psalm 91

He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High
will abide in the shadow of the Almighty.
I will say to the Lord, “My refuge and my fortress,
my God, in whom I trust.”
For he will deliver you from the snare of the fowler
and from the deadly pestilence.
He will cover you with his pinions,
and under his wings you will find refuge;
his faithfulness is a shield and buckler.
You will not fear the terror of the night,
nor the arrow that flies by day,
nor the pestilence that stalks in darkness,
nor the destruction that wastes at noonday.
A thousand may fall at your side,
ten thousand at your right hand,
but it will not come near you.
You will only look with your eyes
and see the recompense of the wicked.
Because you have made the Lord your dwelling place—
the Most High, who is my refuge
no evil shall be allowed to befall you,
no plague come near your tent.
For he will command his angels concerning you
to guard you in all your ways.
On their hands they will bear you up,
lest you strike your foot against a stone.
You will tread on the lion and the adder;
the young lion and the serpent you will trample underfoot.
“Because he holds fast to me in love, I will deliver him;
I will protect him, because he knows my name.
When he calls to me, I will answer him;
I will be with him in trouble;
I will rescue him and honor him.
With long life I will satisfy him
and show him my salvation.”

more than a watchful protector

He’s the hero Gotham deserves, but not the one it needs right now.
So we’ll hunt him. Because he can take it. Because he’s not our hero.
He’s a silent guardian.
A watchful protector.

Commissioner Gorden from The Dark Night


(steamcommunity.com)

My son is 31 years old and has been an avid Batman fan since a very very early age.
It may have been his 3rd or 4th Christmas that Santa brought him a battery operated
Batmobile that he could ride.

He was so blown away by what his young eyes beheld, that he ran to his room in order to
put on his Halloween costume..the one that still hung in his closet always at the ready…
Yes, it was a batman costume…one he would don whenever he believed Batman was
needed to save the day.

That Christmas morning, without uttering a word, our son, in full Batman regalia, proceeded to
stoically climb into that car in order to heed the call of help.

The problem came when he realized the car would not fly….the wee driver was to simply step
on a peddle propelling the car at a snail’s pace across the pavement.

Just as silent and just as stoic, he climbed out of the car and simply went inside.

Ode to a child’s imagination, thinking and yearning.

Needless to say, the prized and coveted Christmas gift was not so prized.

Our young son saw a batmobile and by gosh that thing was supposed to do what
Michael Keaton’s could do…race and fly.

Michael Keaton starred in the first real Batman movie our son ever saw…
Since that movie came out in 1989 and our son was born in 1988,
he saw the movie via a VHS tape shown at home.

The first actual movie that he saw in theaters, of which we regretted taking him to,
was Batman Returns with Danny DiVito playing the Penguin.
McDonald’s had really played up the movie for kids at all of their franchises and on television
because everything Happy Meal was all things Bat.

The movie, however, was, in our opinion, too dark and definitely not intended for young audiences.

But to this day, he says that is one of his favorites of the long-running series.

This little trip down memory lane came rushing forward while I was in Atlanta the past
several days taking care of a sickly Mayor.

We’d settled in one evening after supper and of course,
both the Mayor and Sheriff wanted to watch a cartoon…Frozen is the theme of the day.
Over and over we watch the Frozen movies…I can sing it all in my sleep…just let it go
for crying out loud…

But my son attempted putting on one of the older Batman movies—that is until I told him
his two young fans were just that, too young.

But before he turned it off, the opening scene of this particular movie showed a gathering of
city officials at some sort of banquet, where the speaker addressing those gathered spoke of the
demise of the city of Gotham.
He spoke of how the city was crime-ridden, dishonest, suffering…

And that’s when it hit me like a ton of bricks.
We are living in Gotham.

Our major cities are now rife with disease.
Not so much from a pandemic disease but rather from the disease of human ill.
Not simply drugs, or from the typical crimes found in big cities, but ill with
the hate-filled rioting, looting, violence, agitation, and lawlessness found in hopelessness.
That which is found rotting in anarchy.
These are places where the bad guys now rule both the day and night.

And we are finding that we so desperately want to shine that floodlight into the night sky
with the insignia of “the bat.”
A signal that visibly states our dire need for help as well as a need for hope and
dare we say it, a savior from our current misery.

But here’s the thing…
we have no superheroes.
We have no long-suffering brooding vigilantes who feel the need to defend the defenseless.

They simply don’t exist.

We have police.
We have a military.
But both are currently loathed.

And so we feel lost.
We feel helpless.
We feel hopeless.

But there are those among us who do know…
we know that there is one who is more than just a watchful protecor…
one who has offered us both help and hope…

His name is Jesus Christ and all we have to do is to call out His name.

so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth;
it shall not return to me empty,
but it shall accomplish that which I purpose,
and shall succeed in the thing for which I sent it.

Isaiah 55:11

mad I say… so made I could spit

“Poets do not go mad; but chess-players do.
Mathematicians go mad, and cashiers; but creative artists very seldom.
I am not, as will be seen, in any sense attacking logic:
I only say that this danger does lie in logic, not in imagination.”

G.K. Chesterton, Orthodoxy


(a vintage 1960 Humpty Dumpty stuffed animal via ebay)

When I was growing up, rather than actually curse, my dad would always say “spit”
or “I’m so mad I could spit”

As a youngster, I certainly didn’t know spit was a substitute for a “bad” word and
I always wondered how mad one needed to be in order to spit.

And despite being a tomboy, I was too lady-like to ever spit!

But all these years later, I get it.
And like my dad, I’m so mad right now, I could spit”!!!

You see that picture of a vintage 1960 Humpty Dumpty?
Well, I had one just like it.

Actually, I had several– as my Humpties were each loved to death.
The last one consisted of just the beige insert, the Humpty exterior had long since
worn away…Humpty was with me from the time my parents brought me
home from the adoption agency to the time I got married.
There may have been two total as my mom did her best sowing and patching
the worn love.

My last Humpty has lived in a box at the top of the closest now for nearly 40 years—
add 20 more to his age, and we have an antique beige lump in a box.

But that beige lump absorbed more tears over the years and sadly a few angry
pulls and punches than anything or anyone ever close to me.

He was my constant companion and dearest confidant.

The Mayor is becoming a lot like me in that regard.

She has about 4 or 5 who are bed partners, soul soothers, and best friends.

Here we see a not so gentile sleeper with two stalwart sleeping buddies…
Bobobo (aka Vamparina) and Sky from Paw Patrol–missing is BeBe
(a tiny rabbit rattle, Big Bebe, a stuffed fawn along with Chase the Police Dog
from Paw Patrol.

If you aren’t familiar with Paw Patrol—it’s a cartoon on Nick Jr.
A cartoon that The Mayor and Sherrif both love.

According to its on-line information page, the show is about:
A group of six rescue dogs, led by a tech-savvy boy named Ryder,
has adventures in “PAW Patrol.”
The heroic pups, who believe “no job is too big, no pup is too small,”
work together to protect the community.
Among the members of the group are firedog Marshall, police pup Chase,
and fearless Skye.
All of the animals have special skills, gadgets, and vehicles that help them
on their rescue missions.
Whether rescuing a kitten or saving a train from a rockslide,
the PAW Patrol is always up for the challenge while also making sure
there’s time for a game or a laugh.

You can see Sky is sleeping by the Mayor’s side, but Chase is her favorite…
a police dog German Shepherd pup.

Here we see the day Chase came home to the Mayor and Sherrif from the store:

So I now want to know why a young child’s cartoon show, that first aired in 2013, has
now come under scrutiny and into the crosshairs of the cancel culture??!!

Could it be that there is a “police” dog on the show???

There is a builder safety dog, a fireman dog, a water safety dog, an air safety dog
a road safety dog and of course the police dog.

Yet according to an article on Fox News, here is a quote from a twitter troll
regarding the police character dog on this tiny tot cartoon:

“Euthanize the police dog,” one user said.
Others wrote “defund the paw patrol” and “All dogs go to heaven,
except the class traitors in the Paw Patrol.”

Other’s noted
“As the protests against racist police violence enter their third week,
the charges are mounting against fictional cops, too.
Even big-hearted cartoon police dogs —
or maybe especially big-hearted cartoon police dogs —
are on notice,” Amanda Hess wrote.

“The effort to publicize police brutality also means banishing
the good-cop archetype, which reigns on both television and in viral videos
of the protests themselves,” she continued.
“‘Paw Patrol’ seems harmless enough, and that’s the point:
The movement rests on understanding that cops do plenty of harm.”

https://www.foxnews.com/politics/paw-patrol-denies-canceled-mcenany-white-house-briefing

The rumor circling on-line is that that Nickeloden has canceled the show
but is now denying such actions.

But the mere fact that idiotic adults are out there attacking a cute cartoon geared
toward our smallest members of our community of humankind has left me oh so mad.

So mad that I could spit!

I would think that we as a communtiy would want our young children to see our first
responders being portrayed in positive roles.
Roles of helpers, rescuers, and those who help us when bad things happen.

We want our kids to trust them if ever the need should arise that they must
step in when we can’t help our kids.

For crying outloud—when will enough be enough???

Maybe when they burn down Portland?
Maybe when our Democracy is traded in for pure anarchy.
Maybe when we all die during a pandemic
Maybe when Jesus comes back.

Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous.
Do not be frightened, and do not be dismayed,
for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.”

Joshua 1:9

I’m trying Lord, I’m trying…..

black lives vs all lives…when will we understand….it’s all lives

“Wealth and dominion fade into the mass
Of the great sea of human right and wrong,
When once from our possession they must pass;
But love, though misdirected, is among
The things which are immortal, and surpass
All that frail stuff which will be – or which was.”

Percy Bysshe Shelley


(Fox News)

This is a lamentation of sorts.
As in I’m feeling much like Jeremiah.

I’d like to address a couple of groups within this current culture wars of ours…
as in Mr. and Ms. Black Lives Matter…along with some mayors and even governors–
should the shoe fit.

To BLM: I caught your latest slick new commercial, airing on one of the sports channels,
the other evening.
The end of the commercial is what I suppose is to be your proverbial bottom line—

It went something like this…
‘All lives will matter only when black lives matter…’

And that is exactly the sort of thinking that is at the heart of all our problems.

But because I am white, having said such, you would first attempt to call me
the latest rage name of Karen.

Trust me, I am no Karen.

I do not consider myself privileged nor better than anyone else…
something about men and women being created in the image of God…
but I digress.

After calling me names, you would attempt to intimidate me, perhaps even harass me.
You would next force me to kneel, apologize, beg for forgiveness…
all before I could be granted absolution.

Thus, I will not expound further on your commercial or your notion that only
one color of life matters.
It simply won’t do any good for me to do so because you will
not listen…you will simply go back to calling me a disparaging name before wishing me ill.

So some troubling news surfaced from out of this past weekend…
maybe you’ve heard or seen a few snippets…

Over the 4th of July weekend, at least 7 innocent children were killed.
Killed not by the pandemic but rather they were murdered.
They were 7 black children killed by other black people who just so happened
to have guns.

Did you hear the cries of the parents and grandparents?
Did you see their anguish on the television?
Did you hear their desire for the police to be more active in their neighborhoods?

And so I speak to our big city Mayors and Governors…

The most recent black on black shootings have escalated on a greater proportional
scale than that of the recent events of black men and women being killed
by police officers.

And yet it is the police officers who you wish to see defunded and disbanded
while you allow ‘zones’ of your cities to be hijacked by violent agitators.

You mandate that law-abiding citizens must social distance and wear masks but you
tell the throngs of agitators that it’s okay to march and express their civil disdain.

Mayor Deblasio blames the Pandemic on the tremendous escalation of violent crimes
and murders in New York City.

Seattle’s Mayor Durken likened the CHOP/CHAZ zone in her city to something like
Seattle’s own version of a “Summer of love”—
But then an innocent 16-year-old black boy was shot and killed…
and suddenly the “summer of love” is no more.

Atlanta’s Mayor Bottoms had her chief of police resign after the Mayor went over
the chief’s head and fired several officers involved in the shooting of a black man
at a Wendy’s in downtown Atlanta.
The Wendy’s was subsequently burnt to the ground by an angry mob and the Mayor
actually allowed the violent agitators to “occupy” the area around the Wendy’s
as they claimed it now as a memorial and quasi shrine to the man who was
killed by police.

But that all quickly came to a screeching halt when an innocent 8-year-old little girl was
shot and killed by one of the “zone’s” occupiers.

So what of these mobs of yours?
What of the violence from these mobs?
Do you still consider these mobs “peaceful protestors” or perhaps more along the lines
of thugs and hoodlums bent on nothing but trouble?

What of the urban black community and their guns?
What of the blatant disregard for human life?

Black lives do not seem to matter to other black lives and yet it is
the white community that is vilified as the offenders of what matters and doesn’t matter.

So I ask you BLM, Mayors, and Governors—how many more children must die
before you focus on what is your real trouble–our real trouble–that being,
responsibility.

When will we all understand that these lives of the youngest amongst us are
the lives that offer us the most hope?

But if anyone does not provide for his relatives, and especially for members of his household,
he has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever.

1 Timothy 5:8