(re: Bluto). From Andrew Klaven: “Cowboy Up, Conservatives – And Happy Fourth”
Recently I’ve been hearing a lot of conservatives saying things like, “It’s over. The left has won. This is no longer America. I’m not even going to celebrate the Fourth of July this year.” I confess this disturbs me. I expect feminists to squeal like hysterical little girls.
Second Kings, Chapter 6, contains one of my favorite Bible stories. The King of Aram (which was more or less Syria) is waging war against Israel. But every time he sets up an ambush, the prophet Elisha tips off the Israelites and they get away. Because Elisha is a prophet! So he knows what the Syrians are planning. Mightily ticked off, the Syrian king decides to take Elisha out. So he sends his army to surround the city of Dothan where Elisha is staying.
The next morning, Elisha’s servant steps outside, looks up and sees that the city is surrounded by Syrian horses and chariots. Panicked, he cries out to Elisha, “Oh no, my lord! What shall we do?”
The prophet answers calmly, “Don’t be afraid. Those who are with us are more than those who are with them.”
He then prays that the servant’s eyes will be opened — and when the servant looks again, he sees that the hills are filled with horses and chariots of fire.
Recently I’ve been hearing a lot of conservatives saying things like, “It’s over. The left has won. This is no longer America. I’m not even going to celebrate the Fourth of July this year.” I confess this disturbs me. I expect feminists to squeal like hysterical little girls. I expect Social Justice Warriors to act like small boys who pretend to be heroes against imaginary enemies then run away from actual danger.
I expect conservatives to act like men and women — men and women who understand they are part of a fight for liberty that began when Moses killed the Egyptian slavedriver and will not end until Jesus comes again.
Open your eyes. The hills are filled with chariots of fire. Those who are with us are more than those who are with them.
Happy Fourth of July.
