MICHAEL FINCH: EASTER THOUGHTS AND OF FREEDOM DYING
It is Easter weekend and my mind wanders, my thoughts are sad and full of fear for what is overtaking us. Yes, His rising fills me great wonder, gives me reassurance as to what lies ahead. But in this world, the Left marches, ever marches on, every day freedom erodes, the insidious march and relentless, doggedness of their pursuit to destroy America’s liberty, to bind us, reeducate us, to mold a new man in a Utopian vision. For they are God, they are creating a heaven on earth and we are nothing, worse than nothing, an obstacle in their long progressive drive. We stand in their way, they of the angels, we block them; therefore we must be destroyed. Liberty, the very thought of liberty must die.
So, my mind takes me, takes me into the Plains, north of the Platte, crossing the Missouri, fast as the winds could take me, past, into the way back, rushed and with fear at my heels, I pushed forward into hills of time, given over to time, before, long before this time of tragedy. Into the Dakotas and badlands, wheat high, winds strong and true, the breath of free men and liberty still blow through our bodies strong.
Liberty trampled, burned, destroyed and for what? This God’s graceful land, bequeathed by Founders of a vision unseen, unheard, unknown from all time and history. But now being shattered, transformed for a Utopian dream of hell, an equality of man’s God, a rejection of Him, a tyranny built on jealousy, envy and hatred, from the devil himself. How man, so easily fooled and sold into slavery of shattered illusions of self-righteousness and the striving to be their own God, to make heaven here, to want to mold men to break and destroy them.
All for want of peace, justice, equality and security, we so easily pursue a false God. We pursue our own God, to remake us as the Creator and Judge, to rule over all, to destroy all that is good, just and true and free. The enemy of the Illusionary is the free; their enemy is the very essence of liberty. The free must be destroyed, by the millions they have fallen, and how many more? I fear for all of us, the how many more that will suffer from their progressive crusade.
We have paved the way for tyranny, every day, every minute gone, we drift away from that dream, that dream of our Founders and of that timeless dream of a free man and his faith, his liberty to live and think and be as God made him.
I go away from this time, away from the national suicide, from those who will transform us into chattel slaves to equality and their false God of justice and their murderous illusions. The heaven on earth they are creating will leave millions more dead, freedom gone and the last best hope remembered as just a whisper and a fleeting second of our time on this earth. So, leave me be for I seek my peace, my liberty and will wait for my day and pray for God’s forgiveness and to be heaven sent in His arms.
Settled into a time long past, into those fields I go, to a small grove of Spruce trees, wrapped around the creeks bend, shaded and shielded by a small rise and tall grass, a soft meadow of creek run and a weathered and solid cabin, south faced for that slimmer summer sun, a flank of trees protective from the winters blast of wind and fury. To that grove and small plot I go and rest in the shade and smell the oceans of grasslands, feel the air of freedom and smile of a memory that allowed me to exist in this moment. This moment of a nation and a people that lived free, lived in liberty so unique, so true, so brief. Praise be to God for all of it, even if fleeting, fading and gone, it was, in our time, glorious.
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