Today, I sit here in my chair and I worry about tomorrow. I don’t worry about it because I fear what might happen to the DOW, or the NASDAQ; I don’t worry about what’s going to happen to my medical insurance or my 401K. No, what I worry about is what we’re giving and saying to the ones that come after us–our kids.
History is nothing if not cyclical. This has happened before; and the last time it happened, the world was in a far worse economic crisis, and one not created by a greedy few. I wonder what supporters of then incumbent President Hoover felt on the eve of the landslide election of Roosevelt in 1932, at a time when the country was facing one of its darkest hours.
Along came Roosevelt, with this new idea of a “liberal welfare state,” (AKA: New Deal) where in a speech he explained the Democrat’s new role as this:
“The liberal party insists that the federal government has the definite duty to use its power and resources to meet new social problems with new social controls—to insure to the average person the right to his own economic and political life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.”
I wonder if, after reading this, some felt as I do now that we’re about to turn a corner from which we will never fully recover. But even Roosevelt seemed to have boundaries; Obama does not.
I fear that the very thing that has driven this country to greatness—ambition—is about to be squashed by economic equality. How will I explain to my children the importance of a good education, when it only means a larger portion of their earnings will be taken from them and given to others? How will I instill a desire to succeed when a promotion will only put them over some tax bracket that categorizes and punishes them? How will I teach them to care about doing a good job when it means little more than not getting fired?
I wonder what lengths I would go through to save my country. I served four years in the U.S. Air Force protecting this great land. That was four years I spent working swing and graveyard shift, either in the basement of the DoD, or more often alone at night on the third floor in a steel box that was supposedly safe from a nuclear EMP, while America’s citizens slept soundly, secure in the notion that its government was doing what was necessary to protect them.
Would I do more? Would I, like my forefathers, take up arms against my own country if it became what I fear it might one day? Do I have that kind of fortitude? Do enough others? Or will this “welfare state” breed enough laziness and dispassionate inaction that people can’t even be bothered to care any longer?
Tomorrow morning when I wake up, my home will still be here. My job will still be here and there will still be food on my table. Things take time to change, but it is that subtlety that is so damning. But I have faith in my God and so today I pray the following:
“Oh Lord, hear us today. Hear those of us who know you and who follow you, even though we do so quietly. Today I ask that your will be done. Speak to the hearts of your followers and open the eyes and ears of those you call your own. You will not work against Free Will I know, but the truth needs no incentive. Let the lies be exposed; let the truths shine through and may we forever be a country that has a heart for you. Amen.”