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The story of America is the story of misfits

June 13, 2013
Wilson

Writer

I told you earlier on the program that this is the time and we are the people, but what does that mean exactly? We all know that our country is in trouble, at least some of us, some of us do. We recognize it. Some of us try as hard as we may to convince those who we love and love us and are in our own homes. And for some reason we can't convince them, and it's frustrating. But it's okay. We are living in a time where those who speak the truth, "2 plus 2 equals 4, not 5" will become outcasts. We don't fit in. We are mocked and ridiculed. We are laughed at and publicly shamed. But that's okay. I want you to know today that you're in good company. The very story of America is the story of the misfits and the outcasts. We used to love the story of the underdog, but we have forgotten now that the underdog is the misfit. And the misfit is the one who built this country, whether it be George Whitefield, a misfit in preaching, or the governor of Massachusetts during the Salem witch trials; to Ben Franklin staring down an all‑powerful king; a lanky and homely quiet man from Illinois who thought all men are endowed by their Creator really meant "all men." The misfits of the Wright brothers, the misfit of a preacher from Atlanta, Georgia, to some college students who just thought that they could make a better search engine and call it Google. Misfits, all of them. Misfits, outcasts changed the world.

It's funny. Even though outcasts changed the world, no one wants to be an outcast. Everyone who has ever been picked on in school knows what it's like to be a misfit or an outcast. We really are the same human beings, all of us, no matter where we are, when you boil it down. And you can boil it down to this simple concept: We all just want to fit in. And because of that, tyrants succeed. It's why Saul Alinsky is studied for power and why Hollywood is so influential.

It is the story of misfits. The cool send us a message that being alone is bad. Don't stick out. Don't be different. It's really all because they're afraid and that is why they bully, to make sure we all gather to follow them. Imagine. Imagine if we all thought the same.

Imagine if we all walked the same. If we just got away from the freaks that want to go their own way, imagine what we could do. "I'll help you," they say to us. We could seek the good things and the cool things that everyone wants.

You see, bullies know if they isolate, mock, ridicule, there's something inside of each human being that makes them want to run. It's the bully that we all remember. He picked on the weakest and got others to point and laugh, and each of us then had a choice. Most of us chose to ignore, but the better part of us told us what to do. I too laughed because I didn't want to be on the receiving end. I wanted to be with the cool kids. So we say nothing, and too many times today we repeat that pattern and say nothing. Be ourselves. Become tongue tied. And that is what has to change.

America’s moral erosion: How we were conditioned to accept the unthinkable

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.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.


Russell Vought’s secret plan to finally shrink Washington

Bloomberg / Contributor | Getty Images

Trump’s OMB chief built the plan for this moment: Starve pet programs, force reauthorization, and actually shrink Washington.

The government is shut down again, and the usual panic is back. I even had someone call my house this week to ask if it was safe to fly today. The person was half-joking, half-serious, wondering if planes would “fall out of the sky.”

For the record, the sky isn’t falling — at least not literally. But the chaos in Washington does feel like it. Once again, we’re watching the same old script: a shutdown engineered not by fiscal restraint but by political brinkmanship. And this time, the Democrats are driving the bus.

This shutdown may be inconvenient. But it’s also an opportunity — to stop funding our own destruction, to reset the table, and to remind Congress who actually pays the bills.

Democrats, among other things, are demanding that health care be extended to illegal immigrants. Democratic leadership caved to its radical base, which would rather shut down the government for such left-wing campaign points than compromise. Republicans — shockingly — said no. They refused to rubber-stamp more spending for illegal immigration. For once, they stood their ground.

But if you’ve watched Washington long enough, you know how this story usually ends: a shutdown followed by a deal that spends even more money than before — a continuing resolution kicking the can down the road. Everyone pretends to “win,” but taxpayers always lose.

The Vought effect

This time might be different. Republicans actually hold some cards. The public may blame Democrats — not the media, but the people who feel this in their wallets. Americans don’t like shutdowns, but they like runaway spending and chaos even less.

That’s why you’re hearing so much about Russell Vought, the director of the United States Office of Management and Budget and Donald Trump’s quiet architect of a strategy to use moments like this to shrink the federal bureaucracy. Vought spent four years building a plan for exactly this scenario: firing nonessential workers and forcing reauthorization of pet programs. Trump talks about draining the swamp. Vought draws up the blueprints.

The Democrats and media are threatened by Vought because he is patient, calculated, and understands how to leverage the moment to reverse decades of government bloat. If programs aren’t mandated, cut them. Make Congress fight to bring them back. That’s how you actually drain the swamp.

Predictable meltdowns

Predictably, Democrats are melting down. They’ve shifted their arguments so many times it’s dizzying. Last time, they claimed a shutdown would lead to mass firings. Now, they insist Republicans are firing everyone anyway. It’s the same playbook: Move the goalposts, reframe the narrative, accuse your opponents of cruelty.

We’ve seen this before. Remember the infamous "You lie!” moment in 2009? President Barack Obama promised during his State of the Union that Obamacare wouldn’t cover illegal immigrants. Rep. Joe Wilson (R-S.C.) shouted, “You lie!” and was condemned for breaching decorum.

Several years later, Hillary Clinton’s campaign platform openly promised health care for illegal immigrants. What was once called a “lie” became official policy. And today, Democrats are shutting down the government because they can’t get even more of it.

This is progressivism in action: Deny it, inch toward it, then demand it as a moral imperative. Anyone who resists becomes the villain.

SAUL LOEB / Contributor | Getty Images

Stand firm

This shutdown isn’t just about spending. It’s about whether we’ll keep letting progressives rewrite the rules one crisis at a time. Trump’s plan — to cut what isn’t mandated, force programs into reauthorization, and fight the battle in the courts — is the first real counterpunch to decades of this manipulation.

It’s time to stop pretending. This isn’t about compassion. It’s about control. Progressives know once they normalize government benefits for illegal immigrants, they never roll back. They know Americans forget how it started.

This shutdown may be inconvenient. But it’s also an opportunity — to stop funding our own destruction, to reset the table, and to remind Congress who actually pays the bills. If we don’t take it, we’ll be right back here again, only deeper in debt, with fewer freedoms left to defend.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.