This year, I made a resolution to not get all foamy-at-the-mouth on social media.
But between the National Prayer breakfast and people being thrown off buildings, beheaded, and burned alive in cages at the hands of a religion our leaders fear to address with any semblance of true conviction, I'm having a really hard time.
I've gotten twitchy. I have night sweats. I've even popped a few disks out of my spine.
I've been circling the drain for weeks, struggling pugnaciously not to fall into that vortex of political pontification that somewhat irks my friends and relatives. And despite the copious amounts of liberal fodder being dropped at my feet, I've somehow managed not to give in.
Until I read Rebekah's update... and I admit, I lost it. I'm officially off the wagon. Time to saddle up!
Sigh.... It's Rampage time.
That worthless Tsarnaev kid - you know, the one that took the limbs and lives of innocent people, including 8-year-old Martin Richard, the one who then ran over his own jihadi brother after assassinating Sean Collier, and then lead the city of Boston into full blown panic as law enforcement officers were forced to go door-to-door to hunt him down? The very same one that, shortly after his capture, the liberal media plastered on the cover of Rolling Stone magazine like an enigmatic young guitar hero? Surely you remember that one? Yeah…
he should be the one blistering in a cage.
And to the man that calls himself the leader of our nation - the one that has no religion except the image he sees in his own reflection – the one that will not call out the followers of Mohammad as readily as he calls out those followers of Christ -- to him, I say:
This is America. High Horses are how we managed to achieve so much more than was ever expected of us. Where once we were a colony of misfits, we now embody a greatness of freedom, economy, and humanitarianism of levels unprecedented in written history.
Yet with one shaming shake of your finger, one stroke of your pen, and one zealous vow for change – you are seeking to undermine everything that was fought and bled for in this nation. And lest you forget your own hypocrisy, shall we remind you of that High Horse you rode in on when you stood with Bergdahl’s parents in the Rose Garden? The one you flew in on after you took all the credit for getting Bin Laden? How about the ass you rode to sign your Health Care bill into a law that oppressed us all?
You seem pretty comfy in the saddle, sir, especially in telling all of us that we should get off ours and find 'humility.'
Well, I will not be humble. I will not stumble. My convictions in my faith and my country will not be shaken.
From Rebekah Gregory, Boston survivor:
This morning I scheduled my flight with the FBI for Boston. This is it. The trial is here and there is no escaping it. Very soon I will be sitting face to face with the person who tried to kill me- who tried to take my baby. Then I began thinking of all the things I needed to do before I leave this Sunday. I should probably find my winter clothes since Boston has a bazillion inches of snow on the ground. That led me to my closet. A closet that appears a lot emptier these days.
I began searching through boxes stored, in search of winter clothes. But what I came across I wasn't quite prepared for. There tucked in the corner was a beautiful pair of Michael Kors stiletto pumps. Dang it. I thought I got rid of them all. These shoes had so many memories. So many nights on the town dancing with my best girlfriends. So many blisters that accompanied the next morning. I would kill for a blister on my left foot right now.
And as I thought about those nights, the tears started to fall. What I would give for one more day. Just a little bit more time to really appreciate something I took for granted for so long. Both of my beautiful legs.
But when I look down now, instead I see a blistered "stump". Worn out from working so hard to find normalcy again. Exhausted from just trying to learn how to walk on a prosthetic. And don't get me wrong. I'm ok with this being my life now. I still consider missing part of my leg a huge blessing, because it is a constant reminder that every moment is precious. And I know many others have it so much worse, and my heart hurts for even taking one minute to feel sad.
But I am also human. And because of that I have bad days. And this is one of them where I just wish more than anything...I could go back to shoe shopping for a night of dancing. And I where I could go back to a time, when I didn't have to testify in a federal court case...for a guy who blew me up.
**My prayers remain with the jury, judge and the other survivors and families whose lives were changed forever.** #bostonstrong