Author: America Is the 'Most Anxious Nation on the Planet' – Why?

Do you struggle with anxiety? You’re far from alone. Americans are more anxious than ever – and author Max Lucado wanted to find out why. Joining Glenn on radio Tuesday to talk about his latest book, Lucado offered a three-part theory as to what is making Americans so anxious:

1) The world is moving far more quickly than it used to as technology advances

2) People have forgotten how to slow down

3) We’re constantly bombarded with negative news from every corner of the globe

“We are now the most anxious nation on the planet, and this is the most anxious generation since anxiety was ever measured,” Lucado explained the inspiration behind his new book, “Anxious for Nothing.” The title is a reference to the Apostle Paul’s encouragement to Christians in the New Testament book of Philippians to “be anxious for nothing.”

American anxiety is translating not only to a breakdown in community and relationships but also to a higher suicide rate.

“We’re losing the ability to have honest conversations with one another because we live in fear,” Lucado said.

The two fundamental questions in life are “why am I here?” and “where am I headed?” People can only live so long without being able to answer those questions until they become “bitter and jaded and cynical,” Lucado said.

This article provided courtesy of TheBlaze.

GLENN: Max Lucado, from San Antonio, Texas. He started a small church in Miami, Florida. And now he's in San Antonio. He's been a pastor for 40 years. He's -- he's authored 34 books, 43 different languages. Ninety-seven million copies of his books are in print. He's been married 34 years. Has a granddaughter. Has three wonderful children and a -- a very important message in his new book Anxious For Nothing. Which, Max, I had to have you on, because I think this is the answer to much of what the world is facing right now. We are so anxious about everything. And through, I think, misdirection.

We're blaming it on all kinds of different things and all different people. But it's -- it's really -- this anxiety -- first of all, where do you think it's coming from? What are we experiencing?

MAX: Thanks for letting me on the program, by the way.

GLENN: Sure. Yeah.

MAX: It's not just an assumption on your part. You know, sociologist after sociologist has told us -- and I document a lot of this in the book -- that we are now the most anxious nation on the planet. And this is the most anxious generation since anxiety was ever measured. Third world countries score higher on the anxiety list than the United States does. So how could this be? We have more gimmicks, more gadgets, more toys, more entertainment than ever, and yet we're wrapped tighter than Egyptian mummies. We're just anxious people. And so it's not just an assumption on your part.

And I think the consequence of this -- of course, it's physical. Just about every malady can be faced back in some form to some form of stress. But I think also it has -- we pay a high price emotionally. We're losing the ability to have honest conversations with one another because we live in fear. We're anxious. And when you're anxious, you hunker down and you withdraw. And the result of that can be a breakdown in fellowship, community, and dialogue.

GLENN: So we also withdraw, but then we also gather in groups -- this thing that's going on with, you know, dopamine right now.

MAX: Yeah.

GLENN: We get constant dopamine hits if we post something nasty on Facebook and it starts to go viral. Our brain is rewarding us for that.

MAX: Yeah.

GLENN: With a feel-good drug. And I don't know how that's going to break. Because we're looking -- and, look, we're strung out on opioids or on dopamine hits. And if you're not doing one of those two things, the suicide rate is going through the roof. People are not built to handle this kind of stress.

MAX: The suicide rate between 1999 and today has gone up 24 percent.

GLENN: Wow.

MAX: Twenty-four percent. Now, if we said that about a particular disease, we'd call that an epidemic. More people than ever are orchestrating their own departure, which gives rise to the question: What is happening in our culture to cause that to occur?

GLENN: So what is it?

MAX: I think from a socialist viewpoint, the comment list includes -- we've seen more change in the last 30 years than we've seen in the last 300. So the world is moving far too fast. Number two, we have not -- we have forgotten how to slow down. Our great-grandparents and ancestors would go only as far as the day as the horse or the camel would go. And then when the sun set, they would slow down. We have forgotten how to do that.

GLENN: Yeah. Right.

MAX: And then also, the bombardment of negative news. Not just political news, but just negative news. If something bad happens in Nepal, I hear about it within five seconds. Whereas, our ancestors never would have heard about it. Or if they did, it would have been five weeks later. So we're just bombarded with negative news. So those are the three things that socialists state. Can I add to that as a pastor?

GLENN: Sure.

MAX: I think secularism is taking its toll on us. Secularism is the belief that there's nothing in life beyond what happens between birth and the grave, and there's nothing beyond the world to help us.

Secularism really sucks the hope out of a culture because if there's nothing more than what I can see and touch and feel and I don't like what I can see and touch and feel, then I think I'll just check out.

GLENN: So I want to play something for you that I saw this morning from Jim Carrey. He was giving an interview yesterday in New York, and it was some fancy celebrity thing. And everybody was reporting this as, look at Jim Carrey, he's kind of slapping down Hollywood and the elites and everything else. I don't think that's what's happening. I want you just to listen to what Jim Carrey said in an interview yesterday. Because he is really unhealthy, or he's just starting to figure life out. And I can't decide which it is.

VOICE: Say, Jim Carrey, yes?

JIM: What?

VOICE: I've covered a lot of Fashion Weeks. This is the first time I've run into Jim Carrey.

Wait. Tell me -- is it true you're wandering the streets? You need a date in the party? What's up?

JIM: No, no, no. I'm doing just fine. I -- you know, there's no meaning to any of this. So I wanted to find the most meaningless thing I could come to and join. And -- and here I am. I mean, you got to admit, it's completely meaningless.

VOICE: Well, they say they're celebrating icons inside. Do you believe in icons?

JIM: Celebrating icons, boy, that is just the absolute lowest aiming, you know, possibility that we could come up with. It's like icons. What are -- do you believe in icons?

I don't believe in personalities. I don't believe that you exist. But there is a wonderful fragrance in the air.

VOICE: You don't believe certain icons have the power to make change, to think differently, to be bold, to inspire others, artistry? You're one of them.

JIM: On the good foot, ha!

Yeah. Shut her down now.

Yeah, no.

VOICE: Yeah.

JIM: No, I don't believe in icons. I don't believe in personalities. I believe that peace lies beyond personality, beyond invention and disguise, beyond the red S that you wear on your chest that makes bullets bounce off. I believe that it's deeper than that. I believe we're a field of energy dancing for itself.

And I don't care.

VOICE: But, Jim, you got really dressed up for the occasion. You look good. Was that an accident?

JIM: No, I didn't get dressed up. I didn't get dressed up.

VOICE: Who did?

JIM: There is no me.

VOICE: There's no you. We're not here. This is a dream?

JIM: No, there's just things happening. And there are --

GLENN: Stop. He is -- he's a guy who has been going through trouble lately, a lot of personal trouble. And to me, this is really concerning.

I like the idea that he says all of this is meaningless. But I think he is to a point to where he means really all of this is meaningless. And there's a fine line between that.

MAX: He seems right on the edge of despair.

GLENN: Yes.

MAX: And despair often is borne out of a sense of utter complete disappointment of life. You know, I have been at the top. I've had the very best. I've had all it could give me. And it's still vain. It's vanity.

You know, there's a book in the Bible called Ecclesiastes. And King Solomon reached that same conclusion. You know, the richest man probably who ever lived. And he said, it's nothing, but, you know -- there's vanity. It has no meaning to me.

And so this cry for meaning, this longing to be a part of something significant is right at the core of the deepest, deepest need of a human being. Why am I here? Where am I going?

GLENN: So where are we finding that now? Now that our churches are, you know, struggling. I think in some cases for good reason. Where do we find it? How do we put this back?

MAX: I know our churches are struggling. And oftentimes because of the way churches are structured, they can be so inauthentic, that they come across to people as simply another way to earn money or to -- to steal from people.

GLENN: Yeah.

MAX: And so that -- that's created disconnection between many people and the church.

I really think though that we are beginning to sense, especially in the millennial generation, a sense of authentic faith among our young people. And it's very, very encouraging. And it's a faith that's really built upon a deep, deep conviction that there is a good God who is up to something good. They don't have all the answers. Don't have all of the questions resolved. But there's a deep, deep conviction, that we're seeing, a fresh move of faith among our young people.

And I find that very encouraging.

GLENN: There are reasons to feel the chaos. There are reasons -- I mean, there's real things that are happening that people's jobs are at stake. They -- they don't know how they're going to make ends meet. Their kids are in trouble. Suicide rate with the youth is through the roof. There's real reason to feel this way.

How do you disconnect from the very real things in your life? The hype of all the things that you shouldn't worry about, and put that in order and then find a peaceful place in it? You know, how did Martin Luther King -- how was he in jail and fine?

How did Dietrich Bonhoeffer thank his executioner? How do you do that?

MAX: And I asked that very question in this book, because I based this book upon the writings of the Apostle Paul. And he wrote this book in a Roman jail cell. And this book called Philippines in the Bible has come to be known as the epistle of joy, and yet there's 1,001 reasons he should not be happy.

GLENN: Right.

MAX: I mean, the emperor was making a living on killing Christians, and probably Paul was next in line. And here, the Apostle Paul is chained to a Roman guard and has every reason to think he'll never see the light of day again. If it is, it's just for a few moments before his head is chopped off. And yet, you read these four chapters, and there's not one word of complaint. Not one word of complaint.

And as you dig into this book, you find in this book really a deep and abiding trust in two simple facts: that there is a good God, and this good God is up to good things.

And so I think that -- and I'm not saying anything that surprises you. I mean, I'm a pastor. I know I'm supposed to say these things. But deep in my heart, I really believe that the cause of anguish and despair is a sense of meaningless.

GLENN: It is.

MAX: Why am I here? Where am I headed? Why am I here? Where am I headed? And if you cannot answer those two fundamental questions in life, I mean, how do you get up on a Monday and go to work? You can only do it so many times before you become bitter and jaded and cynical.

GLENN: I'd add to that that there's -- there's a deep sense I think in all of us, of I want to do something of meaning.

MAX: Uh-huh.

GLENN: And we can't find it. We can't find that something of meaning.

We're talking to Max Lucado. In a second, I want to talk to him about chaos, which we've just been talking about. But calm. C-A-L-M. Calm the chaos. In a minute.

(music)

STU: The book by Max Lucado is Anxious for Nothing: Finding Calm in a Chaotic World.

At some point, I want to ask Max the question my kid asked me the other day with the hurricane bearing down. It was one of those, "Hey, why is God sending the hurricane? Is it to kill people?"

And I thought that was probably -- I didn't want to say yes to that. So I said, "Hey, look, daddy's i Pad is charged. Here you go kid!" That was probably not the response Max will give.

GLENN: Max Lucado, a grew new book everyone should read. It's called Anxious for Nothing: Finding Calm in a Chaotic World.

STU: So this really happened the other day. My son is six. And he's watching some of the -- people talking about the hurricane. My mom lives in Georgia. Was threatened by it at one point.

And he asked, "Why does God send hurricanes? Is it to kill people?" So I surely did not answer the question correctly. But what -- I mean, how do you answer something like that to a 6-year-old?

MAX: Yeah. How do you answer when a 6-year-old's father is diagnosed with cancer or when someone's in a car wreck like a family in our congregation was recently? And the man had his first baby on Monday, and he was killed in a car wreck on Saturday.

It's just these -- these kinds of things, you know, they leave our heads spinning.

GLENN: And it's not even 6-year-olds that ask that. There's 60-year-olds. There's 96-year-olds that ask that question.

MAX: Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Why do bad things happen to good people, you know? And I think that's where the heart of the conversation is. The real heart is, is there a God? And if he is a God, what kind of God is he? You know, is there a God? Is he in control? And if he's in control, why do bad things happen?

And I think the Bible talks about that over and over -- you know, Jesus said many times, for example, in this world you will have tribulation, but be of good cheer, I've overcome the world.

The ultimate answer for human suffering, according to the Bible is, it's -- it's not supposed to be this way. It's not supposed to be this way. The world was not created to have hurricanes and tornadoes. Our bodies were not intended to have to deal with cancer cells and heart conditions. My dad died of ALS, you know. And the body -- it's not supposed to be this way.

But there's a good day coming. There's a better day coming. Don't lose hope. Don't give up. I promise I'm going to take what is difficult, tragic, and I'm going to redeem it into something good. And this is what led one Bible writer to say that the promise of the future glory is not worth comparing with the difficulties we have today. In other words, the small potato struggles we have are going to be long forgotten in the next life, in the new life.

I know that requires faith. I know that that's hard for some people to believe.

I've tried not believing it. And I think the idea of not having faith is far more difficult to me than having faith. And so ultimately, the answer is, it's not going to be this way forever.

STU: And I'm going to lay the blame at the feet of Eve. Adam and Eve. Because what you said --

GLENN: I don't --

MAX: Don't give him my email address.

(laughter)

GLENN: Max, I have a great story to share with the audience of -- of, it's how you look at your situation, that we're going to share here in a minute.

And I've run out of time, but I want to come back for one more segment with you. Because I want you to explain C-A-L-M. In a world of chaos, the answer is calm. And we get to that, next.

GLENN: Max Lucado has a new book out called Anxious for Nothing. And as each passing day goes by, I kind of feel like that. I kind of feel like, you know, there are real reasons to be anxious. There's real pressure on right now. The world is changing. But really, how much of that really matters? You know, you either have the faith that it's going to be fine and we're going to make it, or you don't.

And if you don't have the faith, then, you know, it's trouble. You say the answer is calm.

MAX: Yeah. I -- I would even go so far as to say, I think we each have a moral obligation to be peaceful people. You know, we have a moral -- I owe it to you and to you to be as peaceful as I can be. And rather than stir up anxiety everywhere I go, if I can learn to bring peace, like you said earlier, Glenn -- one person is changed, and that person changes a family. That person -- a family changes a community and then a state and then a nation and then the world.

I have a moral obligation to do all I can do to be a peaceful person. Because in the long-term, if enough of us do that, we create a peaceful place. And so that's why I've been so fascinated with this whole theme of anxiety. We're an anxious nation. An anxious nation makes bad decisions. An anxious nation is on edge. An anxious people cannot get along with each other.

Peaceful people, on the other hand have dialogue, have community. Talk through their differences and learn to disagree agreeably. These are characteristics of a peaceful people. So all of that to say, how do you become that? The book in the Bible called Philippines is a book about peace.

And in this book, the apostle says, here's four things you can do: Number one, you celebrate God, the way he says it is. Rejoice in the Lord. Always, again, I say rejoice. He must have been a preacher because he says everything twice. Rejoice in the Lord always. Again, I say rejoice.

So the next time you feel anxious, just take a minute and rejoice in God. Rejoice in the sunshine. Rejoice in his goodness. Rejoice in what you've got.

And then the apostle says, be anxious for nother. There's the phrase. But in everything by prayer and petition, let your requests be made known to God.

So instead of letting the anxiety settle within you, immediately lift the cause or source of that anxiety to God. Make a prayer out of it. Then the apostle says, do this without Thanksgiving. That is to say, leave it God. Then lastly he says, now meditate on good things.

And he gives us a list of like nine different virtues upon which to meditate. In other words, set your mind on better things.

It's a real practical thing, I think, Glenn, that the apostle who had every reason to be stressed out found peace. And he says, here's how I do it.

GLENN: Max, it is good to talk to you. And you have been an influence on my life. And many, many, many people that I know. And it is --

MAX: Oh, thank you.

GLENN: And it is great to have you here.

MAX: And it's mutual. It's mutual. Every conversation is better than the other.

GLENN: Thank you. God bless you.

Trump v. Slaughter: The Deep State on trial

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The administrative state has long operated as an unelected super-government. Trump v. Slaughter may be the moment voters reclaim authority over their own institutions.

Washington is watching and worrying about a U.S. Supreme Court case that could very well define the future of American self-government. And I don’t say that lightly. At the center of Trump v. Slaughter is a deceptively simple question: Can the president — the one official chosen by the entire nation — remove the administrators and “experts” who wield enormous, unaccountable power inside the executive branch?

This isn’t a technical fight. It’s not a paperwork dispute. It’s a turning point. Because if the answer is no, then the American people no longer control their own government. Elections become ceremonial. The bureaucracy becomes permanent. And the Constitution becomes a suggestion rather than the law of the land.

A government run by experts instead of elected leaders is not a republic. It’s a bureaucracy with a voting booth bolted onto the front to make us feel better.

That simply cannot be. Justice Neil Gorsuch summed it up perfectly during oral arguments on Monday: “There is no such thing in our constitutional order as a fourth branch of government that’s quasi-judicial and quasi-legislative.”

Yet for more than a century, the administrative state has grown like kudzu — quietly, relentlessly, and always in one direction. Today we have a fourth branch of government: unelected, unaccountable, insulated from consequence. Congress hands off lawmaking to agencies. Presidents arrive with agendas, but the bureaucrats remain, and they decide what actually gets done.

If the Supreme Court decides that presidents cannot fire the very people who execute federal power, they are not just rearranging an org chart. The justices are rewriting the structure of the republic. They are confirming what we’ve long feared: Here, the experts rule, not the voters.

A government run by experts instead of elected leaders is not a republic. It’s a bureaucracy with a voting booth bolted onto the front to make us feel better.

The founders warned us

The men who wrote the Constitution saw this temptation coming. Alexander Hamilton and James Madison in the Federalist Papers hammered home the same principle again and again: Power must remain traceable to the people. They understood human nature far too well. They knew that once administrators are protected from accountability, they will accumulate power endlessly. It is what humans do.

That’s why the Constitution vests the executive power in a single president — someone the entire nation elects and can unelect. They did not want a managerial council. They did not want a permanent priesthood of experts. They wanted responsibility and authority to live in one place so the people could reward or replace it.

So this case will answer a simple question: Do the people still govern this country, or does a protected class of bureaucrats now run the show?

Not-so-expert advice

Look around. The experts insisted they could manage the economy — and produced historic debt and inflation.

The experts insisted they could run public health — and left millions of Americans sick, injured, and dead while avoiding accountability.

The experts insisted they could steer foreign policy — and delivered endless conflict with no measurable benefit to our citizens.

And through it all, they stayed. Untouched, unelected, and utterly unapologetic.

If a president cannot fire these people, then you — the voter — have no ability to change the direction of your own government. You can vote for reform, but you will get the same insiders making the same decisions in the same agencies.

That is not self-government. That is inertia disguised as expertise.

A republic no more?

A monarchy can survive a permanent bureaucracy. A dictatorship can survive a permanent bureaucracy. A constitutional republic cannot. Not for long anyway.

We are supposed to live in a system where the people set the course, Congress writes the laws, and the president carries them out. When agencies write their own rules, judges shield them from oversight, and presidents are forbidden from removing them, we no longer live in that system. We live in something else — something the founders warned us about.

And the people become spectators of their own government.

JIM WATSON / Contributor | Getty Images

The path forward

Restoring the separation of powers does not mean rejecting expertise. It means returning expertise to its proper role: advisory, not sovereign.

No expert should hold power that voters cannot revoke. No agency should drift beyond the reach of the executive. No bureaucracy should be allowed to grow branches the Constitution never gave it.

The Supreme Court now faces a choice that will shape American life for a generation. It can reinforce the Constitution, or it can allow the administrative state to wander even farther from democratic control.

This case isn’t about President Trump. It isn’t about Rebecca Slaughter, the former Federal Trade Commission official suing to get her job back. It’s about whether elections still mean anything — whether the American people still hold the reins of their own government.

That is what is at stake: not procedure, not technicalities, but the survival of a system built on the revolutionary idea that the citizens — not the experts — are the ones who rule.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.

1 in 20 Canadians die by MAID—Is this 'compassion'?

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Medical assistance in dying isn’t health care. It’s the moment a Western democracy decided some lives aren’t worth saving, and it’s a warning sign we can’t ignore.

Canada loves to lecture America about compassion. Every time a shooting makes the headlines, Canadian commentators cannot wait to discuss how the United States has a “culture of death” because we refuse to regulate guns the way enlightened nations supposedly do.

But north of our border, a very different crisis is unfolding — one that is harder to moralize because it exposes a deeper cultural failure.

A society that no longer recognizes the value of life will not long defend freedom, dignity, or moral order.

The Canadian government is not only permitting death, but it’s also administering, expanding, and redefining it as “medical care.” Medical assistance in dying is no longer a rare, tragic exception. It has become one of the country’s leading causes of death, offered to people whose problems are treatable, whose conditions are survivable, and whose value should never have been in question.

In Canada, MAID is now responsible for nearly 5% of all deaths — 1 out of every 20 citizens. And this is happening in a country that claims the moral high ground over American gun violence. Canada now records more deaths per capita from doctors administering lethal drugs than America records from firearms. Their number is 37.9 deaths per 100,000 people. Ours is 13.7. Yet we are the country supposedly drowning in a “culture of death.”

No lecture from abroad can paper over this fact: Canada has built a system where eliminating suffering increasingly means eliminating the sufferer.

Choosing death over care

One example of what Canada now calls “compassion” is the case of Jolene Bond, a woman suffering from a painful but treatable thyroid condition that causes dangerously high calcium levels, bone deterioration, soft-tissue damage, nausea, and unrelenting pain. Her condition is severe, but it is not terminal. Surgery could help her. And in a functioning medical system, she would have it.

But Jolene lives under socialized medicine. The specialists she needs are either unavailable, overrun with patients, or blocked behind bureaucratic requirements she cannot meet. She cannot get a referral. She cannot get an appointment. She cannot reach the doctor in another province who is qualified to perform the operation. Every pathway to treatment is jammed by paperwork, shortages, and waitlists that stretch into the horizon and beyond.

Yet the Canadian government had something else ready for her — something immediate.

They offered her MAID.

Not help, not relief, not a doctor willing to drive across a provincial line and simply examine her. Instead, Canada offered Jolene a state-approved death. A lethal injection is easier to obtain than a medical referral. Killing her would be easier than treating her. And the system calls that compassion.

Bureaucracy replaces medicine

Jolene’s story is not an outlier. It is the logical outcome of a system that cannot keep its promises. When the machinery of socialized medicine breaks down, the state simply replaces care with a final, irreversible “solution.” A bureaucratic checkbox becomes the last decision of a person’s life.

Canada insists its process is rigorous, humane, and safeguarded. Yet the bureaucracy now reviewing Jolene’s case is not asking how she can receive treatment; it is asking whether she has enough signatures to qualify for a lethal injection. And the debate among Canadian officials is not how to preserve life, but whether she has met the paperwork threshold to end it.

This is the dark inversion that always emerges when the state claims the power to decide when life is no longer worth living. Bureaucracy replaces conscience. Eligibility criteria replace compassion. A panel of physicians replaces the family gathered at a bedside. And eventually, the “right” to die becomes an expectation — especially for those who are poor, elderly, or alone.

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The logical end of a broken system

We ignore this lesson at our own peril. Canada’s health care system is collapsing under demographic pressure, uncontrolled migration, and the unavoidable math of government-run medicine.

When the system breaks, someone must bear the cost. MAID has become the release valve.

The ideology behind this system is already drifting south. In American medical journals and bioethics conferences, you will hear this same rhetoric. The argument is always dressed in compassion. But underneath, it reduces the value of human life to a calculation: Are you useful? Are you affordable? Are you too much of a burden?

The West was built on a conviction that every human life has inherent value. That truth gave us hospitals before it gave us universities. It gave us charity before it gave us science. It is written into the Declaration of Independence.

Canada’s MAID program reveals what happens when a country lets that foundation erode. Life becomes negotiable, and suffering becomes a justification for elimination.

A society that no longer recognizes the value of life will not long defend freedom, dignity, or moral order. If compassion becomes indistinguishable from convenience, and if medicine becomes indistinguishable from euthanasia, the West will have abandoned the very principles that built it. That is the lesson from our northern neighbor — a warning, not a blueprint.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.

A Sharia enclave is quietly taking root in America. It's time to wake up.

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Sharia-based projects like the Meadow in Texas show how political Islam grows quietly, counting on Americans to stay silent while an incompatible legal system takes root.

Apolitical system completely incompatible with the Constitution is gaining ground in the United States, and we are pretending it is not happening.

Sharia — the legal and political framework of Islam — is being woven into developments, institutions, and neighborhoods, including a massive project in Texas. And the consequences will be enormous if we continue to look the other way.

This is the contradiction at the heart of political Islam: It claims universal authority while insisting its harshest rules will never be enforced here. That promise does not stand up to scrutiny. It never has.

Before we can have an honest debate, we’d better understand what Sharia represents. Sharia is not simply a set of religious rules about prayer or diet. It is a comprehensive legal and political structure that governs marriage, finance, criminal penalties, and civic life. It is a parallel system that claims supremacy wherever it takes hold.

This is where the distinction matters. Many Muslims in America want nothing to do with Sharia governance. They came here precisely because they lived under it. But political Islam — the movement that seeks to implement Sharia as law — is not the same as personal religious belief.

It is a political ideology with global ambitions, much like communism. Secretary of State Marco Rubio recently warned that Islamist movements do not seek peaceful coexistence with the West. They seek dominance. History backs him up.

How Sharia arrives

Political Islam does not begin with dramatic declarations. It starts quietly, through enclaves that operate by their own rules. That is why the development once called EPIC City — now rebranded as the Meadow — is so concerning. Early plans framed it as a Muslim-only community built around a mega-mosque and governed by Sharia-compliant financing. After state investigations were conducted, the branding changed, but the underlying intent remained the same.

Developers have openly described practices designed to keep non-Muslims out, using fees and ownership structures to create de facto religious exclusivity. This is not assimilation. It is the construction of a parallel society within a constitutional republic.

The warning from those who have lived under it

Years ago, local imams in Texas told me, without hesitation, that certain Sharia punishments “just work.” They spoke about cutting off hands for theft, stoning adulterers, and maintaining separate standards of testimony for men and women. They insisted it was logical and effective while insisting they would never attempt to implement it in Texas.

But when pressed, they could not explain why a system they consider divinely mandated would suddenly stop applying once someone crossed a border.

This is the contradiction at the heart of political Islam: It claims universal authority while insisting its harshest rules will never be enforced here. That promise does not stand up to scrutiny. It never has.

AASHISH KIPHAYET / Contributor | Getty Images

America is vulnerable

Europe is already showing us where this road leads. No-go zones, parallel courts, political intimidation, and clerics preaching supremacy have taken root across major cities.

America’s strength has always come from its melting pot, but assimilation requires boundaries. It requires insisting that the Constitution, not religious law, is the supreme authority on this soil.

Yet we are becoming complacent, even fearful, about saying so. We mistake silence for tolerance. We mistake avoidance for fairness. Meanwhile, political Islam views this hesitation as weakness.

Religious freedom is one of America’s greatest gifts. Muslims may worship freely here, as they should. But political Islam must not be permitted to plant a flag on American soil. The Constitution cannot coexist with a system that denies equal rights, restricts speech, subordinates women, and places clerical authority above civil law.

Wake up before it is too late

Projects like the Meadow are not isolated. They are test runs, footholds, proofs of concept. Political Islam operates with patience. It advances through demographic growth, legal ambiguity, and cultural hesitation — and it counts on Americans being too polite, too distracted, or too afraid to confront it.

We cannot afford that luxury. If we fail to defend the principles that make this country free, we will one day find ourselves asking how a parallel system gained power right in front of us. The answer will be simple: We looked away.

The time to draw boundaries and to speak honestly is now. The time to defend the Constitution as the supreme law of the land is now. Act while there is still time.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.

Why do Americans feel so empty?

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Anxiety, anger, and chronic dissatisfaction signal a country searching for meaning. Without truth and purpose, politics becomes a dangerous substitute for identity.

We have built a world overflowing with noise, convenience, and endless choice, yet something essential has slipped out of reach. You can sense it in the restless mood of the country, the anxiety among young people who cannot explain why they feel empty, in the angry confusion that dominates our politics.

We have more wealth than any nation in history, but the heart of the culture feels strangely malnourished. Before we can debate debt or elections, we must confront the reality that we created a world of things, but not a world of purpose.

You cannot survive a crisis you refuse to name, and you cannot rebuild a world whose foundations you no longer understand.

What we are living through is not just economic or political dysfunction. It is the vacuum that appears when a civilization mistakes abundance for meaning.

Modern life is stuffed with everything except what the human soul actually needs. We built systems to make life faster, easier, and more efficient — and then wondered why those systems cannot teach our children who they are, why they matter, or what is worth living for.

We tell the next generation to chase success, influence, and wealth, turning childhood into branding. We ask kids what they want to do, not who they want to be. We build a world wired for dopamine rather than dignity, and then we wonder why so many people feel unmoored.

When everything is curated, optimized, and delivered at the push of a button, the question “what is my life for?” gets lost in the static.

The crisis beneath the headlines

It is not just the young who feel this crisis. Every part of our society is straining under the weight of meaninglessness.

Look at the debt cycle — the mathematical fate no civilization has ever escaped once it crosses a threshold that we seem to have already blown by. While ordinary families feel the pressure, our leaders respond with distraction, with denial, or by rewriting the very history that could have warned us.

You cannot survive a crisis you refuse to name, and you cannot rebuild a world whose foundations you no longer understand.

We have entered a cultural moment where the noise is so loud that it drowns out the simplest truths. We are living in a country that no longer knows how to hear itself think.

So people go searching. Some drift toward the false promise of socialism, some toward the empty thrill of rebellion. Some simply check out. When a culture forgets what gives life meaning, it becomes vulnerable to every ideology that offers a quick answer.

The quiet return of meaning

And yet, quietly, something else is happening. Beneath the frustration and cynicism, many Americans are recognizing that meaning does not come from what we own, but from what we honor. It does not rise from success, but from virtue. It does not emerge from noise, but from the small, sacred things that modern life has pushed to the margins — the home, the table, the duty you fulfill, the person you help when no one is watching.

The danger is assuming that this rediscovery happens on its own. It does not.

Reorientation requires intention. It requires rebuilding the habits and virtues that once held us together. It requires telling the truth about our history instead of rewriting it to fit today’s narratives. And it requires acknowledging what has been erased: that meaning is inseparable from God’s presence in a nation’s life.

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Where renewal begins

We have built a world without stillness, and then we wondered why no one can hear the questions that matter. Those questions remain, whether we acknowledge them or not. They do not disappear just because we drown them in entertainment or noise. They wait for us, and the longer we ignore them, the more disoriented we become.

Meaning is still available. It is found in rebuilding the smallest, most human spaces — the places that cannot be digitized, globalized, or automated. The home. The family. The community.

These are the daily virtues that do not trend on social media, but that hold a civilization upright. If we want to repair this country, we begin there, exactly where every durable civilization has always begun: one virtue at a time, one tradition at a time, one generation at a time.

This article originally appeared on TheBlaze.com.