Today we weep for the country. Not with the shallow tears of partisan disappointment, but with the deep, aching grief of those who have watched a house they love slowly forget its own foundation. We weep because we have been calling evil good, and good evil. We have put darkness for light, and light for darkness, just as the prophet Isaiah warned we would.
We have taught our children that there are no truths, only preferences. That there is no right and wrong, only what feels right in the moment. And then we act surprised when that same generation feels lost, anxious, and adrift — untethered from anything solid enough to hold them.
We have called greed progress, when we measure a life only by what it can accumulate and consume. We have called selfishness freedom, when we define liberty not as the freedom to do what is right, but as the freedom to do whatever we want, without consequence or cost to others. We have called cruelty strength, when we cheer for the sharpest insult, the loudest mockery, the most ruthless takedown, and mistake contempt for courage.
We have called cowardice compassion, when we refuse to speak the truth to our neighbor because it might make us uncomfortable, unpopular, or unloved.
We have turned away from the very things that made America not just wealthy, but good. Hard work. Duty. Faith. Family. Sacrifice for something greater than self. We have traded the quiet virtues that built this nation for the noisy vices that are now tearing it down.
A country cannot survive when it no longer knows what it stands for. A people cannot endure when they no longer believe there is anything worth standing for at all.
And so today, we weep. We weep for the schools that no longer teach, for the homes that no longer shelter, for the churches that no longer preach, for the public square that no longer knows how to speak to one another with decency and respect. We weep for the innocence lost, for the promises broken, for the birthright sold for so little.
But our weeping is not without hope. For America has been down before. We have been divided, humbled, and brought to our knees before. And it was on our knees that we remembered how to pray.
So let this grief be the beginning of repentance. Let this weeping be the beginning of a return. Not a return to a political party or a personality, but a return to principle. To truth that does not shift with the polls. To goodness that does not change with fashion. To a God who does not move.
May we find the courage again to call good good, and evil evil — clearly, kindly, and without apology. May God bless America. Not because we deserve it, but because we desperately need it.
