Virgie Bell's View: Players

I was able to hear just a little of the debate in the Senate about the immigration bill on the tube yesterday. I did not catch who the Senator was or where he was from. I did catch the d by his name. Have you ever watched the debates in the Senate? The players (they are players) postulate and gesture. Their audience is vast, silent in their regard for the wisdom that speaketh. But in reality, when the camera pans to this audience, you will see at most two or three in attendance, looking bored and sleepy. These are our tax dollars hard at work for us. The Senator I listened to yesterday, called us, the dissenting majority, arrogant and uncaring for even giving it a second thought about illegals becoming legal. He was appalled at our lack of compassion. Shocked by the selfish desire to put up fences! I also got to hear some from the other point of view, but the one with an R by his name, he said build the fence first. This immigration bill is some 800 pages long. Whatever.

Then there’s the Mike Nifong hearing. Mr. Nifong lost his license to practice law, but in his state of North Carolina, that is only for five years. He gets to keep his cushy home and retirement pension. No doubt that is plenty, plus various bank accounts in the Cayman Islands and other money laundering banks, all for serving the people. Serving. If my neighbor had a severe illness and needed for me to take food to her house, I would be happy to do so, just as her neighbor to the east would be. I would not fight the other neighbor over it … I want to give back in my neighborhood just as much as anyone else, but I will not bribe the other one on the east side in order to do so, nor will I hurl accusations at the east side neighbor. Good government is like a good neighborhood. A good neighborhood is one with laws and hopefully, has a neighborhood watch-dog program. It is made up of people more or less with the same values. Yards are kept and watered. They look lived in, and yes, loved. That little slice of the American dream. If old cars parked on the front lawn are your bag, you need to get out of my neighborhood. You are diminishing my part of the American dream. We have all come by this dream through work. We started out in the trach homes, raised our kids there, and finally got the corner lot in a good part of town. From that first modest yard to the emerald green of our last home, we have invested love and pride in our various yards. America is made up of billions of dreams and they are all connected. We went from sandboxes to swing sets, then to fountains and bird baths. If you are a productive citizen, that will be the natural progression.

On 9/11 we woke up to the knowledge that there are some insane people who want us to die. This last week, al Qaeda had a video of three hundred suicide bombers and their graduation ceremony, shown behind hoods with rocket launchers on their shoulders and bombs around their bodies, some as young as twelve years old. I am still trying to understand the difference in Hamas and Fatah. I cannot hope to understand terrorists and their insane ideas.

I hope that Bush can see a way to use this immigration bill for the safety of our country. No matter what is going on, God is still in control. That being the case, I am living the life that was allotted to me by history. Things are certainly lining up to fulfill prophecy, but then weren't they always. I learned about the Bull in the China Closet and Dog in the Manger on my mother’s knee. The only difference now is I live on that corner and see that eternity coming ever closer. I don't want to be around for the big finale. I have searched the scriptures for rapture. It is there. Man has somehow muddled through until the present time, but when you reach my age you really want to sit in your own backyard, the one with the fountain and the birdbath. I trust in God and.... I SUPPORT THE TROOPS!