Glenn gives his account of the devastation and resilience in Oklahoma

May 21, 2013

Writer

Donate to the Mercury One Midwest Tornado Relief Fund HERE.

"Yesterday I completed my television show at 5:00 and I... I walked off the air, and the head of Mercury One said to me, 'Glenn, just a devastating tornado in Oklahoma in a little town called Moore, Oklahoma'," Glenn said on radio this morning.

"Joe came to me and he said 'Devastation'. I said, 'Well, I think we should get there as soon as we can.'"

"So last night I tweeted: Does anybody, anybody have a couple of tractor‑trailers we can borrow for the night? And about 9:30 last night my team was packed and ready to go and the tractor‑trailers that had been supplied really by a local church were already at the gates of a place called Operation Blessing. It's an organization that we have helped fill the pantries of and they have helped deliver food for different things whenever there's been a crisis. We couldn't use their trucks this time because they were all on the East Coast and it would be a couple of days. We knew that here in this little teeny town in Oklahoma, there were people that needed food and water and just whatever it is that we need to run our life every day. They needed it not in a couple of days but last night, early this morning. So we loaded up the trucks, two eighteen‑wheelers and four SUVs hit the road last night about 11:00. We arrived here about 4:00 a.m."

"And so we pull up to the place that is kind of the Epicenter for anybody who is hungry, anybody who is in need, anybody who needs a bed, anybody who needs someplace to gather together as a family because they've lost everything. It's the First Baptist Church here in Moore. And we pulled up, I don't know, about 4:00 or 5:00 this morning. They just finished unloading the second truck about 20 minutes ago," Glenn continued.

"As I went to see the devastation early this morning before the sun was up, it was raining again and lightning was streaking across the sky, and a woman came up to me. Surprising how many people are just wearing flip‑flops, wearing pajamas, wearing anything that they happened to have on. And she came up to me in her flip‑flops and her T‑shirt and she said, is this where we can get food? Is there going to be breakfast served here? And I said, "Yes, ma'am. I don't know all the details, but I think it's right on the other side of the church building is where you can get a hot meal."

"We drove past all of the places that were reporters. All the reporters are kind of outside a specific zone. Some of them have been allowed into this hospital here I'll tell you about here in a second. But most of them are sitting outside of the zone. Police have stopped all of them from coming in. I can understand why. Like vultures they circled this building last night. Like vultures they circled this building this morning wanting to get an interview with one of the family members who had lost a child last night. People from the police and fire and sheriffs, churches, the volunteers sickened by them," Glenn said.

"We went through the barricades and we did a different group of interviews this morning. I think if you need a sobbing parent to tell you what it was like to lose their child within a couple of hours after losing their child, I think there's something wrong with you. Instead while everybody else is here in their battle fatigues trying to look like "We're really important and we're going to tell you exactly what happened," we quietly went around with our cameras and our microphones and I just talked to the people that were coming from different states, people who had come in from their churches, people who had come in from their firehouses, people who heard about it and just called somebody and said 'We've got to go and help.'"

"I went and I talked to the district manager of the Home Depot because there in the midst of the devastation, on one side of the street is a strip mall that has just been devastation, cause blown through the windows, nothing on the roof, trees stripped of their bark. And on the other side is the Home Depot."

"Home Depot opened their doors, kept them open for the First Responders and anybody that needed anything. You need a shovel, you need a flashlight, you need some plywood? What do you need? The cash registers were locked. The cash registers were turned off."

"You see, I found something interesting this morning. I found that the State was here. I found that the local was here, found the sheriff's department, the police departments, I found the fire departments from several different states. One national organization that I did recognize. I noticed that the Salvation Army was here. They were feeding the First Responders. I didn't see FEMA. I saw the National Guard, but that's under the direction of the governor. I didn't see the FEMA trucks yet. Perhaps they're here. But what I did see are the churches, the pastors, the priests, the people of faith.

"I ran into a guy from Dallas, Texas. What was the name of that, the Minutemen. The Minutemen from Dallas, Texas. They said they went up to help the people at the last hurricane. They said they learned a lot. And the thing they learned about, the thing they really realized is here are men that are supposed to be good Christian men who sat in their pews. They sat in their pews and they didn't really do a lot. They read the scriptures and they said their prayers and they took care of their families and they ran their businesses, but they weren't really involved. And then Joplin happened."

"And when Joplin happened, they decided, 'We have to go help,' and they did. And when they were there, they realized, 'We're not fast enough. We're not prepared enough.' And so this group of businessmen, this group of Christian men got together and started something called the Minutemen. You'll meet them tonight on television. An amazing idea."

"I told them we would sit down and talk because they are exactly the kind of people that Mercury One wants to find and help fund. They're exactly the kind of people that you need to hear the story because there should be Minutemen all around the country."

"I got a lot of heat on Twitter last night for saying that we're the First Responders. 'Who does Glenn Beck think he is?' I don't know. An American citizen. That's who I think I am. I don't know. A Christian. You're right, I'm not FEMA. I actually wear that as a badge of honor and I think everybody here should wear that as a badge of honor as well. We're here because we love each other. We're here because we're an American. We're here because, don't you want to feel for your fellow man?"

"I'm sitting in an upper room at this church now, this conference room with big glass windows and I'm looking at the gray sky of Oklahoma, the traffic that is stuck on the interstate, and I'm seeing a big water tank that says "Moore, Home of Toby Keith." Even though I know Toby, even though I know Toby listens, even though I have pictured him listening, writing his songs in his head while he's driving that tractor, I still won't think of Moore as the home of Toby Keith. I'll think of Moore as one incredible town that knows what America is supposed to be like. That knows you don't give up, you don't pack it in, you don't walk away, you don't wait, you don't make a sign that says "help." You help each other. You help yourself. Makes you stronger. Moore isn't the home of Toby Keith. Moore is just one great town in Oklahoma where a country singer happens to live."

"Last night I'm proud to say that our audience is so amazing. Last night on Twitter and Facebook, I suggested that if you knew of somebody that could provide a truck or two, we sure would like their help. And that you could donate. 100% of the proceeds if you donate to MercuryOne.org now, you click on the tornado disaster relief. Every dollar raised will go, 100% will go to Moore and that's one of the reasons why we're on the ground now, to see where that money should go. Who needs it? Who's not going to waist your money? Who's going to make the most of that dollar? I would urge you to go to MercuryOne.org now and donate. I'm proud to say it's now up to $121,000 and we haven't even mentioned it on the air yet."

What our response to Israel reveals about us

JOSEPH PREZIOSO / Contributor | Getty Images

I have been honored to receive the Defender of Israel Award from Prime Minister Netanyahu.

The Jerusalem Post recently named me one of the strongest Christian voices in support of Israel.

And yet, my support is not blind loyalty. It’s not a rubber stamp for any government or policy. I support Israel because I believe it is my duty — first as a Christian, but even if I weren’t a believer, I would still support her as a man of reason, morality, and common sense.

Because faith isn’t required to understand this: Israel’s existence is not just about one nation’s survival — it is about the survival of Western civilization itself.

It is a lone beacon of shared values in the Middle East. It is a bulwark standing against radical Islam — the same evil that seeks to dismantle our own nation from within.

And my support is not rooted in politics. It is rooted in something simpler and older than politics: a people’s moral and historical right to their homeland, and their right to live in peace.

Israel has that right — and the right to defend herself against those who openly, repeatedly vow her destruction.

Let’s make it personal: if someone told me again and again that they wanted to kill me and my entire family — and then acted on that threat — would I not defend myself? Wouldn’t you? If Hamas were Canada, and we were Israel, and they did to us what Hamas has done to them, there wouldn’t be a single building left standing north of our border. That’s not a question of morality.

That’s just the truth. All people — every people — have a God-given right to protect themselves. And Israel is doing exactly that.

My support for Israel’s right to finish the fight against Hamas comes after eighty years of rejected peace offers and failed two-state solutions. Hamas has never hidden its mission — the eradication of Israel. That’s not a political disagreement.

That’s not a land dispute. That is an annihilationist ideology. And while I do not believe this is America’s war to fight, I do believe — with every fiber of my being — that it is Israel’s right, and moral duty, to defend her people.

Criticism of military tactics is fair. That’s not antisemitism. But denying Israel’s right to exist, or excusing — even celebrating — the barbarity of Hamas? That’s something far darker.

We saw it on October 7th — the face of evil itself. Women and children slaughtered. Babies burned alive. Innocent people raped and dragged through the streets. And now, to see our own fellow citizens march in defense of that evil… that is nothing short of a moral collapse.

If the chants in our streets were, “Hamas, return the hostages — Israel, stop the bombing,” we could have a conversation.

But that’s not what we hear.

What we hear is open sympathy for genocidal hatred. And that is a chasm — not just from decency, but from humanity itself. And here lies the danger: that same hatred is taking root here — in Dearborn, in London, in Paris — not as horror, but as heroism. If we are not vigilant, the enemy Israel faces today will be the enemy the free world faces tomorrow.

This isn’t about politics. It’s about truth. It’s about the courage to call evil by its name and to say “Never again” — and mean it.

And you don’t have to open a Bible to understand this. But if you do — if you are a believer — then this issue cuts even deeper. Because the question becomes: what did God promise, and does He keep His word?

He told Abraham, “I will bless those who bless you, and curse those who curse you.” He promised to make Abraham the father of many nations and to give him “the whole land of Canaan.” And though Abraham had other sons, God reaffirmed that promise through Isaac. And then again through Isaac’s son, Jacob — Israel — saying: “The land I gave to Abraham and Isaac I give to you and to your descendants after you.”

That’s an everlasting promise.

And from those descendants came a child — born in Bethlehem — who claimed to be the Savior of the world. Jesus never rejected His title as “son of David,” the great King of Israel.

He said plainly that He came “for the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” And when He returns, Scripture says He will return as “the Lion of the tribe of Judah.” And where do you think He will go? Back to His homeland — Israel.

Tamir Kalifa / Stringer | Getty Images

And what will He find when He gets there? His brothers — or his brothers’ enemies? Will the roads where He once walked be preserved? Or will they lie in rubble, as Gaza does today? If what He finds looks like the aftermath of October 7th, then tell me — what will be my defense as a Christian?

Some Christians argue that God’s promises to Israel have been transferred exclusively to the Church. I don’t believe that. But even if you do, then ask yourself this: if we’ve inherited the promises, do we not also inherit the land? Can we claim the birthright and then, like Esau, treat it as worthless when the world tries to steal it?

So, when terrorists come to slaughter Israelis simply for living in the land promised to Abraham, will we stand by? Or will we step forward — into the line of fire — and say,

“Take me instead”?

Because this is not just about Israel’s right to exist.

It’s about whether we still know the difference between good and evil.

It’s about whether we still have the courage to stand where God stands.

And if we cannot — if we will not — then maybe the question isn’t whether Israel will survive. Maybe the question is whether we will.

When did Americans start cheering for chaos?

MATHIEU LEWIS-ROLLAND / Contributor | Getty Images

Every time we look away from lawlessness, we tell the next mob it can go a little further.

Chicago, Portland, and other American cities are showing us what happens when the rule of law breaks down. These cities have become openly lawless — and that’s not hyperbole.

When a governor declares she doesn’t believe federal agents about a credible threat to their lives, when Chicago orders its police not to assist federal officers, and when cartels print wanted posters offering bounties for the deaths of U.S. immigration agents, you’re looking at a country flirting with anarchy.

Two dangers face us now: the intimidation of federal officers and the normalization of soldiers as street police. Accept either, and we lose the republic.

This isn’t a matter of partisan politics. The struggle we’re watching now is not between Democrats and Republicans. It’s between good and evil, right and wrong, self‑government and chaos.

Moral erosion

For generations, Americans have inherited a republic based on law, liberty, and moral responsibility. That legacy is now under assault by extremists who openly seek to collapse the system and replace it with something darker.

Antifa, well‑financed by the left, isn’t an isolated fringe any more than Occupy Wall Street was. As with Occupy, big money and global interests are quietly aligned with “anti‑establishment” radicals. The goal is disruption, not reform.

And they’ve learned how to condition us. Twenty‑five years ago, few Americans would have supported drag shows in elementary schools, biological males in women’s sports, forced vaccinations, or government partnerships with mega‑corporations to decide which businesses live or die. Few would have tolerated cartels threatening federal agents or tolerated mobs doxxing political opponents. Yet today, many shrug — or cheer.

How did we get here? What evidence convinced so many people to reverse themselves on fundamental questions of morality, liberty, and law? Those long laboring to disrupt our republic have sought to condition people to believe that the ends justify the means.

Promoting “tolerance” justifies women losing to biological men in sports. “Compassion” justifies harboring illegal immigrants, even violent criminals. Whatever deluded ideals Antifa espouses is supposed to somehow justify targeting federal agents and overturning the rule of law. Our culture has been conditioned for this moment.

The buck stops with us

That’s why the debate over using troops to restore order in American cities matters so much. I’ve never supported soldiers executing civilian law, and I still don’t. But we need to speak honestly about what the Constitution allows and why. The Posse Comitatus Act sharply limits the use of the military for domestic policing. The Insurrection Act, however, exists for rare emergencies — when federal law truly can’t be enforced by ordinary means and when mobs, cartels, or coordinated violence block the courts.

Even then, the Constitution demands limits: a public proclamation ordering offenders to disperse, transparency about the mission, a narrow scope, temporary duration, and judicial oversight.

Soldiers fight wars. Cops enforce laws. We blur that line at our peril.

But we also cannot allow intimidation of federal officers or tolerate local officials who openly obstruct federal enforcement. Both extremes — lawlessness on one side and militarization on the other — endanger the republic.

The only way out is the Constitution itself. Protect civil liberty. Enforce the rule of law. Demand transparency. Reject the temptation to justify any tactic because “our side” is winning. We’ve already seen how fear after 9/11 led to the Patriot Act and years of surveillance.

KAMIL KRZACZYNSKI / Contributor | Getty Images

Two dangers face us now: the intimidation of federal officers and the normalization of soldiers as street police. Accept either, and we lose the republic. The left cannot be allowed to shut down enforcement, and the right cannot be allowed to abandon constitutional restraint.

The real threat to the republic isn’t just the mobs or the cartels. It’s us — citizens who stop caring about truth and constitutional limits. Anything can be justified when fear takes over. Everything collapses when enough people decide “the ends justify the means.”

We must choose differently. Uphold the rule of law. Guard civil liberties. And remember that the only way to preserve a government of, by, and for the people is to act like the people still want it.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.

Stand with Voddie Baucham’s family in this time of loss

In the quiet aftermath of a profound loss, the Christian community mourns the unexpected passing of Dr. Voddie Baucham, a towering figure in evangelical circles. Known for his defense of biblical truth, Baucham, a pastor, author, and theologian, left a legacy on family, faith, and opposing "woke" ideologies in the church. His book Fault Lines challenged believers to prioritize Scripture over cultural trends. Glenn had Voddie on the show several times, where they discussed progressive influences in Christianity, debunked myths of “Christian nationalism,” and urged hope amid hostility.

The shock of Baucham's death has deeply affected his family. Grieving, they remain hopeful in Christ, with his wife, Bridget, now facing the task of resettling in the US without him. Their planned move from Lusaka, Zambia, was disrupted when their home sale fell through last December, resulting in temporary Airbnb accommodations, but they have since secured a new home in Cape Coral that requires renovations. To ensure Voddie's family is taken care of, a fundraiser is being held to raise $2 million, which will be invested for ongoing support, allowing Bridget to focus on her family.

We invite readers to contribute prayerfully. If you feel called to support the Bauchams in this time of need, you can click here to donate.

We grieve and pray with hope for the Bauchams.

May Voddie's example inspire us.

From isolation to connection: Overcoming loneliness

Loneliness isn’t just being alone — it’s feeling unseen, unheard, and unimportant, even amid crowds and constant digital chatter.

Loneliness has become an epidemic in America. Millions of people, even when surrounded by others, feel invisible. In tragic irony, we live in an age of unparalleled connectivity, yet too many sit in silence, unseen and unheard.

I’ve been experiencing this firsthand. My children have grown up and moved out. The house that once overflowed with life now echoes with quiet. Moments that once held laughter now hold silence. And in that silence, the mind can play cruel games. It whispers, “You’re forgotten. Your story doesn’t matter.”

We are unique in our gifts, but not in our humanity. Recognizing this shared struggle is how we overcome loneliness.

It’s a lie.

I’ve seen it in others. I remember sitting at Rockefeller Center one winter, watching a woman lace up her ice skates. Her clothing was worn, her bag battered. Yet on the ice, she transformed — elegant, alive, radiant.

Minutes later, she returned to her shoes, merged into the crowd, unnoticed. I’ve thought of her often. She was not alone in her experience. Millions of Americans live unseen, performing acts of quiet heroism every day.

Shared pain makes us human

Loneliness convinces us to retreat, to stay silent, to stop reaching out to others. But connection is essential. Even small gestures — a word of encouragement, a listening ear, a shared meal — are radical acts against isolation.

I’ve learned this personally. Years ago, a caller called me “Mr. Perfect.” I could have deflected, but I chose honesty. I spoke of my alcoholism, my failed marriage, my brokenness. I expected judgment. Instead, I found resonance. People whispered back, “I’m going through the same thing. Thank you for saying it.”

Our pain is universal. Everyone struggles with self-doubt and fear. Everyone feels, at times, like a fraud. We are unique in our gifts, but not in our humanity. Recognizing this shared struggle is how we overcome loneliness.

We were made for connection. We were built for community — for conversation, for touch, for shared purpose. Every time we reach out, every act of courage and compassion punches a hole in the wall of isolation.

You’re not alone

If you’re feeling alone, know this: You are not invisible. You are seen. You matter. And if you’re not struggling, someone you know is. It’s your responsibility to reach out.

Loneliness is not proof of brokenness. It is proof of humanity. It is a call to engage, to bear witness, to connect. The world is different because of the people who choose to act. It is brighter when we refuse to be isolated.

We cannot let silence win. We cannot allow loneliness to dictate our lives. Speak. Reach out. Connect. Share your gifts. By doing so, we remind one another: We are all alike, and yet each of us matters profoundly.

In this moment, in this country, in this world, what we do matters. Loneliness is real, but so is hope. And hope begins with connection.