What is America?

Yesterday was All Saints Sunday, and during the prayers of the people, I prayed for the departed saints in Sutherland Springs, Texas, all 26 of them, including no less than three children, a woman who was 5 months pregnant, and the the elderly who could duck, or run, or whatever. What good is prayer? I genuinely wonder sometimes, but in that wondering, I prayed for America, too. America the wasteland.



Who are we? What is America?

America--land of insanity, of gun rights and rage, of itchy trigger fingers.

America--land of politicians with their soothing words signifying nothing, the genetically-modified weeds growing among God's wheat.

America--where a good run up in the stock market or consumer confidence or the coming #BLACKFRIDAYDEALS or positive cattle futures or any news of prosperity numbs our collective consciousness to death, death, death, death.

America--where we pay lip service to the life of the unborn but shell out big bucks to preserve the capacity for one man to commit mass murder and infanticide.

America--where rifles spit bullets into the Body of Christ. On a Sunday. In November. Blackest of days, again.

America--you are heartless, and where is the soul when there is no heart, beating?


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