@Emolclause Have you even read the SAVE act? It states the need for multiple forms of ID for registering to vote. Registered voters at my MI precinct present a valid driver’s license. The barcode on the back is swiped and you are handed your ballot.
So much of our life is being in the tomb, waiting.
We wait for our prayers to be answered in the way we wish.
We wait for our fractured relationships to be restored.
We wait for our broken hearts to heal.
We wait.
We cry out.
We sit in the tomb.
On Holy Saturday, we remember, we treasure and we honor our God who went to the tomb for us and is in the tomb with us.
He waits with us in the darkness and soon, he will take our hand and lead us into the light.
Wait for him.
Wait with him.
Trust, be brave and wait.
#talkedtotheboss #holysaturday #EasterVigil
@Joeinblack ✝️ Starting my Lent on a mission trip to serve those on the border of Haiti and the Dominican Republic. It is always a beautiful way to get my heart in the right place.✝️
The Deadly Cost of Ignorance.
(Audio of my latest X article)
I wrote this with genuine hope, to challenge all of us to think more deeply about what’s happening beneath the surface of the immigration debate.
You don’t have to agree with my conclusions.
But I do hope more Americans across the political spectrum will hear it, read it, reflect on it, and ask harder questions about the systems, incentives, and narratives shaping public opinion.
"My son brought home a classmate who smelled like cigarettes and wore the same shirt three days straight.
Connor's eight. Came home Tuesday and said, "Mom, can Aiden come over? His house doesn't have internet for homework."
Aiden showed up. Skinny kid, unwashed hair, shoes held together with duct tape. Flinched when I touched his shoulder.
"You hungry?" I asked.
He nodded. Ate four sandwiches without looking up.
While the boys did homework, I noticed Aiden had no backpack. Just papers shoved in his jacket. His math worksheet had the wrong answers, but clearly he'd tried hard. Real hard.
"Aiden, want me to check your work?"
"My dad usually helps, but he's..... busy." The way he said 'busy' made my stomach hurt.
Connor whispered to me later, "Aiden's dad is sick. Real sick. And his mom left last year."
Aiden started coming over daily. Always hungry. Always grateful. Never asked for anything.
One evening, he didn't leave. Just sat on our couch at 8 p.m., staring at his phone.
"Aiden? Doesn't your dad wonder where you are?"
"He's sleeping. He sleeps a lot now."
Red flags everywhere. I drove him home. The apartment was dark, freezing cold. His dad answered the door, rail-thin, coughing. "Sorry. I work nights, sleep days. Aiden knows to manage."
He was lying. No night job. Just too sick to care for his kid.
I did something maybe I shouldn't have. Called CPS? No. I just started showing up.
Brought dinner "by accident-made too much." Picked up Aiden for school "since we're heading that way anyway." Bought Connor new shoes and coincidentally grabbed a pair "in the wrong size, can Aiden use them?"
Aiden's dad, Mike, finally broke down one Saturday. "I have stage four liver disease. No insurance. Can't work. Can't afford treatment. I'm trying to keep us afloat until...... until I can't anymore. Then he goes to foster care."
"What if he didn't?" I said.
My husband and I aren't rich. We're barely middle class. But we had a spare room.
Mike moved in three months ago. Hospice comes twice weekly. He's in our downstairs bedroom. Aiden's upstairs in what used to be my craft room.
It's not legal guardianship. It's not foster care. It's just...... what you do.
Mike's got maybe six months left. He watches Aiden and Connor play video games from his bed, tears streaming down his face. "He's laughing again," he whispers. "I forgot what that sounded like."
Last week, Aiden called me "Mama Lisa" by accident. Turned bright red. "Sorry, I meant"
"It's okay, sweetheart," I said.
Mike heard it. Squeezed my hand. "Thank you for letting me stay long enough to see him okay."
I don't know what happens when Mike dies. Maybe Aiden stays. Maybe we figure out custody. Maybe it gets complicated.
But right now? Two boys are doing homework at my kitchen table. One of them finally has shoes that fit.
Sometimes saving someone doesn't look like a big heroic moment. Sometimes it looks like extra sandwiches. Wrong-sized shoes. A spare bedroom.
Pay attention to the kid in your child's class who wears the same clothes. Who's always hungry. Who doesn't get picked up on time.
You don't need to be perfect. You just need to notice.
And maybe make one extra sandwich."
Let this story reach more hearts....
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Ai image is for demonstration purpose only.
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By Mary Nelson
Marxist capture of the Democrat party is complete.
A hint for my Democrat colleagues: If you’re cutting ads that make Putin proud, you’re doing patriotism wrong.
When their so-called moderates can be so easily induced to walk up to the line of sedition then our national security has never been at higher risk.
We must continue to fight with the truth and for the Truth.
Please get your facts straight.
This woman explains the link between Tylenol and autism.
Multiple vaccines cause inflammation and the depletion of glutathione from the body...The addition of Tylenol exacerbates the problem by also depleting glutathione, which acts as an antioxidant to clean up the inflammation. The result is extreme inflammation that causes havoc in a child's body
My heart breaks…for Charlie Kirk’s wife and kids, for the message of faith and family that he exemplified, for the evil that runs rampant through our country. I pray for the repose of his soul, for the family he leaves behind, and for our country. 💔💔💔🙏🙏🙏