I’ve been quiet, because I’ve been angry. The political events of the past four days have made me seriously reconsider options for correction. The politically motivated arrest of U.S. President Donald Trump is a line crossed I never thought we would experience in our lifetime.
We have watched international politics with a semi-detached view; at least, I will admit that I have. Watching, looking at arrests of political opponents from the safety of our devices and the comfort of reference points that always seemed distant, over there, certainly not here.
Perhaps, just perhaps, globalism has hit that metastatic phase where every cell and every organ in our global world is now being attacked by a virus no longer contained at origin; I don’t know. What I do know is that our landscape has changed; where we stand as a nation is entirely different, yet we seemingly never moved an inch.
It’s almost like we are standing on a stage and the backdrop changed behind us. If we take a national selfie, everything looks completely different. When I look at the resulting picture, I do not like this image of myself, this place, this perspective, and yet… I am exactly the same.
Life has taught me the best thing to do when I feel a sense of rage is to get quiet. Prudence and wisdom teach you to lower the blood flow, evaluate the external and proceed with caution, because the action that flows from the rage mindset generates collateral damage. Serious collateral damage. So, I shut down, walk away, turn my eyes to the truest of all true things, and pray.
There was a time when mules were of great value in the creation of what sustains all human community life. Mules that pulled ploughshares were evaluated with a level of discernment that would rival modern NFL drafts.
Entire communities, often spread miles apart, knew the strength of each other person’s mules. Auctions would bring people from great distances, and there were quiet men of great knowledge who understood the invisible traits that qualified the best mules.
The best, the absolute best, were held with a regard even more valuable than the land they walked. The remarkable thing about these mules was their diversity in physical appearance. Ultimately, what made the great mules of such value was the part that could not be seen, the part the quiet men looked for.
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Posted in Big Government,
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