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My spiritual journey followed a crooked path.
Our ranch east of Ingomar was 30 miles from the
nearest church. About twice a year the Holy Spirit
convinced Mom it was time to evangelize her three
boys by cleaning the gumbo from behind our ears,
dressing us in white shirts, wool sport coats, and
dinky bow ties before cramming us into the green
station wagon for an hour rattle into Forsyth. That
was the easy part. Sitting quietly in a massive
church filled with the unfamiliar faces of city
people made me feel like a bum calf in a crowded
sale barn. I studied all the exits looking for the
first hole in the fence. The souls of country kids
are more difficult to redeem than regular sinners.
We moved home to Wyoming when I was eight and again
our ranch was 30 miles from town. The first five
miles of the road were actually graveled so our
travel time to church was less than it was in
eastern Montana; however the frequency of our
attendance remained sporadic. The Christian
teachings of right and wrong provided our family’s
foundation, but we simply were not regular church
goers. Years later, this issue caused me a little
hiccup when I was trying to convince the trophy
girlfriend to be my trophy wife. We were driving
through town on a movie date when Druann asked what
church I attended. I knew where it was, but I could
not remember its name to save my soul. (Now, there
is a paradox.) I craftily maneuvered the
conversation elsewhere as I steered the station
wagon nonchalantly past the church figuring I would
read the name off the marquee. With perfect timing,
I veered the conversation back to my religion as I
turned down the selected street and discovered the
church had been torn down and replaced with a bank.
Announcing membership in the “First National Bank of
Christ” might harm my cause, so I changed the
subject and hung a left.
In 2002, after fully recovering from what should
have been a fatal injury, I faced questions
unanswerable by logic. Why and for what purpose was
I saved? The many twists of fate in my story were
too perfectly aligned to just be twists of fate.
Jesus Christ had a hand in my healing and He has
been a part of my life every day since; something
which has helped me greatly in my legislative
endeavors. Standing for liberty, the free-will tenet
of Christianity, means I will be attacked
unmercifully by Marxists who want life’s biggest
decisions handled by government. To retreat because
of public ridicule or death threats is to abandon
the exact purpose for me still being here. I am a
Christian, so bring it on and this brings me to my
point.
Although the First Amendment specifically prohibits
the establishment of a national religion, the ruling
class has done exactly such. While you were
distracted, this religion has saturated the American
fabric and today it is taught in schools as the most
common theme in Common Core. It is aggressively
promoted in Hollywood and hundreds of movies are
produced hypnotizing the unwashed masses with its
tenets. Politicians mandate worship, while rogue
bureaucracies implement decrees too extreme to
survive the three branch legislative process. Was
this not the exact reason Jefferson coined the
phrase there should be “a wall of separation between
church and state?” Yep, it was, yet here we are.
Environmentalism, our national religion, is the
worship of creation while simultaneously removing
our Creator from the equation. Once you believe it
is man, not God who decides the fate of all creation
big government must become your focus of worship.
The Bundy Ranch in Nevada was overrun by BLM forces
under the state sponsored lie they were protecting
an endangered desert tortoise. Eastern Montana is
being prepped for similar squashing to save the Sage
Grouse and after free-roaming bison sweep the
plains, government will have a choke hold on rural
Montana. Our Treasure State timber industry has been
destroyed and the mining industry severely crippled
by leftists promoting environmentalism. The
Marxist’s special cult of climate changers advance
the preposterous theory chosen emperors can control
the earth’s weather through tax policy. I am shocked
by both the arrogance of the ruling class, as well
as the ignorance of the slaves who believe such
poppycock. In school, weren’t you taught to think
critically? Wait a minute; I take that back. Trust
me; it is all a lie to get you to submit. To modify
the 1776 patriot battle cry to fit 2014, “There is
but one King; and He is not in Washington D.C.”
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