The Colorado 2010 gubernatorial election causes me to pause and wonder. I have been asking myself, why does Dan Maes, the Republican Party’s losing candidate for governor, remain in this race? Why does Democrat, John Hickenlooper, contribute to his Chinook Fund and allow money to support organizations such as Cop Watch, La Raza, and terrorist sustaining Hamas. Has Dan Maes deluded himself into thinking he’s staging a comeback with a single percentage point margin from 15% to 16%. Has he struck a deal with someone, which requires him to press on when the evidence is compelling (if not overwhelming) that he cannot win? Is he vindictive? Does he place self-interest high above the interests of people of Colorado? Why won’t he do the honorable thing and gracefully remove himself from this contest? Is Dan Maes running interference for John Hickenlooper?
Is it bondage or misplaced loyalty that causes Colorado candidates, Party Leaders, and party members to elevate mere mortals above the needs of our State? If the Truth shall set us free, living a lie (i.e., false loyalty) leads to bondage. Loyalty, including Party Loyalty, to the one leading the lie, locks all who follow into shackles. The loyalty line seems to be, “Party over principle.” This applies to both Democrats and Republicans in Colorado’s 2010 gubernatorial race. John Hickenlooper, Dan Maes, and Party loyalists seem to ignore the Truth.
John Hickenlooper is a progressive, which means he’s an, “Ends justify the means,” kind of guy. To heck with the Constitution, he will expand Denver’s sanctuary city status to the entire state. Through confiscatory taxation, he will transfer wealth from oppressor, “Rich,” Coloradans to the oppressed, illegal-victim aliens. Finally, he will allow the Federal government to dictate to Colorado citizens how we live our lives.
Dan Maes tried to bury the truth and mislead us. We do not know who or what he is, how he will govern, or if we can believe anything, he says. All evidence indicates that he cannot be trusted. His behavior leads me to believe that he is not a conservative. Every conservative I know, although not perfect, lives an honorable life. Mr. Maes does not act like an honorable man. I hope he proves me (and thousands more) wrong by stepping aside and let a proven conservative govern.
The Party Leaders and Loyalists expect Coloradans to vote for these characters. I say, “Not so fast.” It is up to Liberty-loving, truth seeking and clear-thinking Colorado citizens to make the best choice for governor of our State.
So, let us start with a common base. We are Americans and Coloradans. When we say, “The Pledge of Allegiance,” are we pledging to the political party of choice? Do we sing “God bless the Party, or America?” For those who have sworn a solemn oath to preserve and protect the Constitution of the United States, party affiliation is never a consideration. Principled, Liberty-loving Americans say, “No more.” We reject Party Leadership domination. Do any of these major-party leaders represent plain, everyday Americans? Do they live paycheck-to-paycheck? Do they breathe special air, drink extraordinary water, or eat exceptional food? Okay, maybe they do. However, are they anything more than human? Do they really know what’s better for us? Do they really have our best interests in mind? Their gubernatorial selections reveal human fallibility and loyalty to their out-of-touch parties. They failed. It is time for Coloradans to exercise our God given obligatory duty to, “Throw off,” the major-party candidates and select a constitutionally sound governor for ourselves and posterity. Let’s drop the party politics, band together, and do what’s best for, We The People of the State of Colorado, for a change.
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Saturday, March 27, 2010
Resurrect the Republic
Folks, let's face it the Republic is dead. With a stroke of a pen, the fraud-in-chief signed America's death certificate this week. She died a slow, painful, and near her end, a pleading for life death caused by the cancer of progressivism, a disease of the brain that causes the host to believe the Constitution is no longer relevant, it has outlived its usefulness, and that Government experts know what is best for the people and nation.
When I tried to put my feelings into words, I had a strong sense of loss, a grieving, as if I mourned the passing of a dear, loved one. That's why I wore black clothes most of this week. Now, I never met a feeling I can trust so as rational thought regained control, I looked to God, the Supreme Ruler and Judge of the Universe. Re-connecting with my Creator in prayer has a way of grounding, stabilizing, and clarifying. God reminded me that He holds the future in His hands, and no matter how much the pretended leadership of this nation mocks Him and those of us who know the Risen One - Yeshua - we know He has resurrection power. In this truth, we have faith.
With this faith, I have to choose. Will I continue to serve a false hope that somehow we, who are finite, can turn the ship of state around? Or, will I follow the lead of the Infinite, Holy One? In a recent after-signing speach, the mocker-in-chief ridiculed those of us who opposed the death legislation and feared the loss of freedom in America. He laughed at the notion Armageddon would begin, asteroids would strike the planet, and great cracks in the earth would appear. He said he looked up to see if these things would happen and as it turned out, it was a nice day. The Lord reminded me of other self-proclaimed world leaders who mocked the Almighty: Pharaoh, Nebuchadnezzar, Alexander the Great, and Caesar. God in His mercy gave them time to repent. However, while God deals with our proud leaders in Washington, what do we, the people do.
As I see it, faith leads me to choose resurrection life. How do we resurrect the Republic? People of faith, and specifically the Body of Christ, must begin in prayer. Most of us are keenly familiar with this passage of scripture from 2 Chronicles 7:14, "If . . . My people who are called by My name humble themselves and pray, and seek My face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, will forgive their sin, and will heal their land." For me, the sin of progressivism stands out. It is a slow destroyer, but a destroyer nonetheless. I reject progressivism in all its many forms, and specifically false compassion that believes Government can provide better for people than the Creator. I embrace the cause of liberty anchored by the Constitution. I choose to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with other liberty-loving Americans who look to our nation's new birth of freedom, re-founded on Constitutional principles, which protect our God given rights of life, liberty, and pursuit of happiness - the guarantee that what He provides to His people is not taken away under the guise of redistribution by a government of, by, and for elites.
When I tried to put my feelings into words, I had a strong sense of loss, a grieving, as if I mourned the passing of a dear, loved one. That's why I wore black clothes most of this week. Now, I never met a feeling I can trust so as rational thought regained control, I looked to God, the Supreme Ruler and Judge of the Universe. Re-connecting with my Creator in prayer has a way of grounding, stabilizing, and clarifying. God reminded me that He holds the future in His hands, and no matter how much the pretended leadership of this nation mocks Him and those of us who know the Risen One - Yeshua - we know He has resurrection power. In this truth, we have faith.
With this faith, I have to choose. Will I continue to serve a false hope that somehow we, who are finite, can turn the ship of state around? Or, will I follow the lead of the Infinite, Holy One? In a recent after-signing speach, the mocker-in-chief ridiculed those of us who opposed the death legislation and feared the loss of freedom in America. He laughed at the notion Armageddon would begin, asteroids would strike the planet, and great cracks in the earth would appear. He said he looked up to see if these things would happen and as it turned out, it was a nice day. The Lord reminded me of other self-proclaimed world leaders who mocked the Almighty: Pharaoh, Nebuchadnezzar, Alexander the Great, and Caesar. God in His mercy gave them time to repent. However, while God deals with our proud leaders in Washington, what do we, the people do.
As I see it, faith leads me to choose resurrection life. How do we resurrect the Republic? People of faith, and specifically the Body of Christ, must begin in prayer. Most of us are keenly familiar with this passage of scripture from 2 Chronicles 7:14, "If . . . My people who are called by My name humble themselves and pray, and seek My face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, will forgive their sin, and will heal their land." For me, the sin of progressivism stands out. It is a slow destroyer, but a destroyer nonetheless. I reject progressivism in all its many forms, and specifically false compassion that believes Government can provide better for people than the Creator. I embrace the cause of liberty anchored by the Constitution. I choose to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with other liberty-loving Americans who look to our nation's new birth of freedom, re-founded on Constitutional principles, which protect our God given rights of life, liberty, and pursuit of happiness - the guarantee that what He provides to His people is not taken away under the guise of redistribution by a government of, by, and for elites.
Friday, January 15, 2010
Christmas Miracle
On Saturday, December 19, 2009 around 1 PM, I had a bad accident. To avoid hitting a small, mid-1980s, gray, "well used," Honda Civic (no tail lights), I chose to lay my motorcycle down on a busy street. Time seemed to shift its physical properties and slowed its natural pace. I remember saying a quick, "Jesus help me prayer," reminding myself to hang on and starting the ditch process I had studied, mentally prepared for many times, but after years of riding, I never had to use. I remember the initial impact with the street, then things are a bit fuzzy until maybe seconds, maybe minutes later.
I looked to my left and saw a large, black pickup truck heading for me and it stopped in the street's center lane next to me (in the left lane). I turned my head to the right and watched the little Honda drive away. I heard car doors slam, and then a woman looked into my helmet, identified herself as a paramedic licensed in another state, but requested my permission to, "Check me out."
I felt burning pain throughout my back, chest and right shoulder. I could not breathe, but I managed to tell her, "Okay." As she asked me a bunch of questions, checked my responses to hand and foot movements, I watched a young woman, and someone else, lift my bike off of my right leg.
I heard someone ask, "Did anyone call "9-1-1," and I heard another say, "Yeah, I did and they're one they're way."
Then, I heard the sirens, and saw a fire truck pull near my left side. The Lakewood Police, Fire and Rescue, and others asked me more questions, and I answered them as best I could. All I could think about was my wife, Mary, and how we were supposed to meet for lunch at the restaurant just down the street from where I laid. I kept asking someone, please call her, but I guess they had other things on their minds. Then, the paramedics decided to cut me out of my jacket and pants. I knew my gear had kept me alive, but I was not too sure for how much longer, because I still found it difficult to breathe. Then, that first lady paramedic looked into my helmet again and said, "I know you may not believe me, or may not want to hear this now, but you are going to be okay."
I do not know how long it took the rescue team to scrape me off the street, strap me to the most painful board on the planet, and place me in the ambulance, but I remember begging someone, anyone to call Mary.
They could not get an, "IV," started. Each time they tried, my veins collapsed. I heard one of the paramedics say, "We better get him to the hospital." We took off right away.
Sometime later in the hospital, after x-rays, cat scans, the removal of my helmet, and the successful insertion of an, "IV," I got the attention of one of the young police officer's who promised to call my wife.
Hours passed before Mary and our thirty-year old daughter, Michelle arrived. I was still strapped to the, "torture board," when our thirty-five-year-old son, Dan, showed.
This is when the miracle happened. For almost three years, our son and daughter have not spoken to one another. As I watched them work together to support their mother, my dear wife, Mary, God filled me with His joy. I was so grateful to Jesus for letting me witness His use of my broken body, to bring reconciliation between our children. The greatest Christmas gift I could receive was seeing our children treating each other with kindness. This joy transformed into strength, and I knew I would be okay.
Don't get me wrong, the pain did not go away, but I had a joy and strength that surpassed the damages, which listed can be sung to the, "12-Days of Christmas," tune: 6 broken ribs, a broken collar bone - in 3 places, and a fractured shoulder blade.
My riding days are probably over (Mary demands that I sell the bike after it is fixed), the orthopedic surgeon tells me that it will take a year for all my broken bones to heal, and I still may have to have shoulder surgery if she is not satisfied with my progress. Nevertheless, if God used a crash to help bring our children back together again, it is okay.
I looked to my left and saw a large, black pickup truck heading for me and it stopped in the street's center lane next to me (in the left lane). I turned my head to the right and watched the little Honda drive away. I heard car doors slam, and then a woman looked into my helmet, identified herself as a paramedic licensed in another state, but requested my permission to, "Check me out."
I felt burning pain throughout my back, chest and right shoulder. I could not breathe, but I managed to tell her, "Okay." As she asked me a bunch of questions, checked my responses to hand and foot movements, I watched a young woman, and someone else, lift my bike off of my right leg.
I heard someone ask, "Did anyone call "9-1-1," and I heard another say, "Yeah, I did and they're one they're way."
Then, I heard the sirens, and saw a fire truck pull near my left side. The Lakewood Police, Fire and Rescue, and others asked me more questions, and I answered them as best I could. All I could think about was my wife, Mary, and how we were supposed to meet for lunch at the restaurant just down the street from where I laid. I kept asking someone, please call her, but I guess they had other things on their minds. Then, the paramedics decided to cut me out of my jacket and pants. I knew my gear had kept me alive, but I was not too sure for how much longer, because I still found it difficult to breathe. Then, that first lady paramedic looked into my helmet again and said, "I know you may not believe me, or may not want to hear this now, but you are going to be okay."
I do not know how long it took the rescue team to scrape me off the street, strap me to the most painful board on the planet, and place me in the ambulance, but I remember begging someone, anyone to call Mary.
They could not get an, "IV," started. Each time they tried, my veins collapsed. I heard one of the paramedics say, "We better get him to the hospital." We took off right away.
Sometime later in the hospital, after x-rays, cat scans, the removal of my helmet, and the successful insertion of an, "IV," I got the attention of one of the young police officer's who promised to call my wife.
Hours passed before Mary and our thirty-year old daughter, Michelle arrived. I was still strapped to the, "torture board," when our thirty-five-year-old son, Dan, showed.
This is when the miracle happened. For almost three years, our son and daughter have not spoken to one another. As I watched them work together to support their mother, my dear wife, Mary, God filled me with His joy. I was so grateful to Jesus for letting me witness His use of my broken body, to bring reconciliation between our children. The greatest Christmas gift I could receive was seeing our children treating each other with kindness. This joy transformed into strength, and I knew I would be okay.
Don't get me wrong, the pain did not go away, but I had a joy and strength that surpassed the damages, which listed can be sung to the, "12-Days of Christmas," tune: 6 broken ribs, a broken collar bone - in 3 places, and a fractured shoulder blade.
My riding days are probably over (Mary demands that I sell the bike after it is fixed), the orthopedic surgeon tells me that it will take a year for all my broken bones to heal, and I still may have to have shoulder surgery if she is not satisfied with my progress. Nevertheless, if God used a crash to help bring our children back together again, it is okay.
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