First they came for the TEA Party, but I was not afraid of big government so I said nothing. Then they came for conservative radio but I wasn't listening – so I ignored it.
When they attacked the AP and FOX pretending that our nation’s “national security” was at risk, I still believed that they were looking out for me. When the IRS took 1 million a day from Hobby Lobby because of their Catholic views, I kept my mouth shut because I was not Catholic. When Romney was nit-picked for his “binders full of women,” and his faith and for his money, I didn't see how it mattered to me because I attend another, more "traditional" church. I am not part of the rich 1% anyway.
When I heard of the accusations that the President did nothing to defend our soldiers and representatives in far-off lands, I went to bed early. When I heard the rumors of UN treaties, bankruptcy, and the loss of inalienable rights, I was too busy complaining about the leaves of our nation’s problems;I failed to notice the roots of tyranny digging in deeply everywhere. Besides, I wasn't one of them and I was too small to fight something so big – even if it was real -- right?
But now, 10 years have slipped away since those earlier warning bells rang in 2013 that I refused to hear. It is now my turn to be taken. I remember, 10 years ago, when there was more than one monolithic chant, when I could freely worship God - instead of the state. I could have yelled, if I cared, “DOWN WITH BIG BROTHER!” online or at home – without the immediate sound of boots and batons at my door. I could have home schooled my children. I could turn up the heat in my home, because it wasn't “smart”. I could defend myself with words, or if I needed, a gun. But instead, I wasted my time in distractions and in right and left petty fights. I was warned, but I didn't see how tyranny could grow so fast -- let alone be interested in me.
But now, I hear. I hear the warnings from my children wearing brown uniforms – that my views are too moderate for this brave new world. I hear that my pastor was taken in the middle of the night. I hear the sound of boots walking past; no – wait...they have finally stopped at my door. They rush forward to where I sit. I hear two severe, detached cracks of a baton on my skull, and then nothing. I see now, my older children standing in the hallway behind the others in uniform. I meet their gaze before I am dragged away. I wish I could tell if it was pity I see in their faces or disgust…
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