Where are the Patriots?

The United States of America was founded on certain aspirational principles -- including, to "establish Justice" and "insure domestic Tranquility." Throughout our nation's history we certainly have been imperfect in our pursuit of those principles at times. Yet, a love for, or devotion to, the United States places an obligation on Americans to pursue and advocate for those founding principles to the best of our ability. Those who demonstrate a love for and devotion to their country are often seen as patriots. Yet we have never been a people to shy away from challenging those in power when they violate and walk away from our founding principles. Being a patriot means loving and advocating for our founding principles regardless of what those in power may say at any particular time. Where are the patriots today? Where are those who will speak truth to power and who will support and advocate for our nation's founding principles, even at some personal or professional cost?

In the face of much of what I see coming out of our federal government, I confess to feeling more powerless than I may have at any time in my adult life. In many ways, the White House and Republican majorities in the House and Senate are either turning their backs on, or ignoring the expansive  undercutting of, our nation's founding principles. What seems to me to be the most egregious, current violation of our founding principles involves the case of Kilmar Armando Abrego Garcia, the man that the Trump administration has admitted was deported to El Salvador in error. 

After admitting that Mr. Garcia's deportation was an error, the Trump administration has not only failed to take any steps to rectify their admitted error, but has stonewalled complying with Orders from the U.S. District Court and the U.S. Supreme Court. I get it that the administration is making a point that they do not believe that the Courts can "tell them what to do," and especially related to foreign policy, but this is not fundamentally a dispute about foreign policy. This is fundamentally a matter of whether this administration, and their enablers in Congress, will keep their promises to "support and defend the Constitution." When does it ever "establish Justice" to erroneously grab a person off the street, fly them to a foreign country, imprison them, and fail to do anything to secure their return to the United States? This has nothing to do with foreign policy and everything to do with not owning and correcting an acknowledged "administrative error." 

Further, the administration is arguing that the El Salvadoran prison, where Mr. Garcia was sent by the Trump administration, is outside of U.S. jurisdiction and that the administration is powerless to secure Mr. Garcia's return. All I can say is that if the U.S. cannot persuade El Salvador to return a mistakenly and wrongfully incarcerated person who came from the U.S., then China and Russia have nothing to fear -- not to mention the fine people of Greenland. 

I have no misplaced hopes about what this second Trump administration will be. I am not surprised that Trump is breaking everything he touches and that chaos is the order of the day. I don't expect Donald Trump to support and defend the Constitution, except when it serves his personal interests. But I have different hopes and expectations of the Republicans in Congress -- or at least some Republicans in congress.

Why is no one on the Republican side of the aisle calling for Mr. Garcia's return? Why is not one Republican voice being heard calling this situation what it is -- a fundamental violation of establishing justice? Why are there no Republican voices calling for accountability for the decision to kidnap,  wrongfully deport, and imprison Mr. Garcia? Are there no patriots amongst the Republicans? No patriots who will put faithfulness to the Constitution and our founding principles above their fear of being primaried from the further right?

And if we, and our elected representatives, do not speak out now, who will be there to speak out for us when the midnight knock is at our door?

Reflecting on a well-lived life

Three years ago, Carmen lived her last day in this life and her first in the life to come. She was an extraordinary woman whose influence, mostly by the example of her consistent interest, care, and love, has been vast in scope and duration. For nearly 38 years we lived life together fully: raised kids, planted gardens, rode bikes, hiked mountains, read books, were frustrated and angry (mostly her with me), enjoyed the arts, watched lots of kid sports, sang in church, cooked, ate, cleaned up. In other words, we saw and did all of life together. Across the years, I saw in her a consistent godly character and desire to live life well, mindful of, and grateful for her redemption. 

One of the difficulties of a long illness (for those who are the caregivers) is that it is often easier to vividly recall the days of sickness and decline than to remember the times that came before. But I am finding that the more I can recall the days before the cancer journey, the more I can celebrate the person who Carmen was for most of her days.

After she passed away, I had the privilege of reading some of her journals from over the years. While these were her private thoughts when she was living, I share some of what she wrote in this public forum to honor her memory and to celebrate her legacy and example. Soon after we had discovered the first tumor, but before we really knew what we were dealing with, she wrote, "So--I pray that I won't die soon and that I won't be seriously ill or affected with long term physical limitations. These things seem small to ask in light of the greatness of Your purpose in your kingdom; but I know You love me." She was a pragmatist, and not a Pollyanna at all, yet she was able to hold, at the same time, an awareness of the reality of her physical condition and a gratitude and worship of God and His purposes (mysterious as they may be). A year into chemo she also wrote, "Oh Lord, hear my cry, turn toward me and hear my prayer. My heart aches! I love my little girls and it's hard to think that I might not see them grow up. Lord--I guess I've been expecting that I will die sometime soon. That's so sad and hard. Please give me strength and comfort. I need you right now." She felt the feelings deeply, yet her faith did not waver. A week later she wrote, "Lord--there is endless life ahead for me! What an incredible gift. And I do look forward to that--trying to imagine what it might be like."

Around this same time, our pastor in Houston was preaching on the Beatitudes where Jesus taught, "Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted." Pastor Jim encouraged people to write down that for which they mourn and to allow God to bring comfort to those losses. Carmen wrote: "Lost--since my diagnosis: time that is carefree; trips to MN and time with the Grandgirls; ability to play and give to them; trip to Mountain Lakes; hair; eyebrows and lashes; the physical strength I had; times biking with Ken; Christmas at the normal time; mental acuity; the freedom to look ahead and plan fun and retirement and even mundane things." Then she went on to write, "Father--I may list more later--but every time I write something down, it seems You remind me of how much better other things are now or how the loss is more than compensated by some good things!!" She followed this by writing, "Next I must list what I have gained--not only the list of what's lost! I've gained--from having cancer: closer walk with God; incredible support from friends and family; deep bond with my girls--they're fighting with me and show love and maturity and we share the sadness too--all of it together; understanding peace and receiving comfort from God; a grasp of today--the present--living in it and resetting priorities; prayer--communicating with my Father and more, more, more."

Our cancer journey followed an up and down path. Several rounds of different types of chemo interspersed with "chemo holidays" to let Carmen's body recover a bit of strength and to see if the tumor growth and spread had been slowed. Even as the journey turned to the long-expected decline, she retained a focus on what was needed for her heart's health and wrote, "I am going to work on being thankful and on who You are instead of looking at myself and my limits -- Yes I have more limitations -- but You are limitless and what is ahead for me is so beyond all these limits!"

About one year before she died we made the decision to discontinue treatment and return to Minnesota to be closer to family for the duration. In those months she remained engaged with family and friends and even started a small group at our church specifically for cancer patients and their caregivers. Her focus and awareness of her need for God and her anticipation of life everlasting in His presence continued to grow. Even in the midst of so much that she/we had lost, she was able to write, "[Lord] You are faithful to Your covenant and don't go back on your promises. If you did--we would all be dust. But instead you care for us and bind up our wounds and tenderly hold us. Lord, I need you to do that these days. I feel the disease and not just the effect of the treatments. I want to LIVE the rest of my life and not just try not to die. Most certainly I need and want to keep very close to You. Jesus, Father, Holy Spirit, draw me close and speak to me. Direct my steps and my words. Help me not to be anxious or to squander my time and energy or even my words. Please Holy, Mighty Lord--use this time for Your glory and for those I live much."

Toward the very end she was unable to write much, but the very last journal entry I have been able to find sums up Carmen's life and legacy:

"Finally, be strong in the Lord and in His mighty power."

Soli Deo gloria

Best of times; Worst of times

Dickens' A Tale of Two Cities (first completed book of 2025) contains one of my favorite literary bookends:

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way ..."

"It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to, than I have ever known."

In between this beginning and this ending, opportunities are seized and squandered. Honor is acknowledged and ignored. Love is found, declared, lost, and found anew. Villains are exposed and heroes arise. In short, life is lived in the broad strokes of the French Revolution and the small details of the  expatriate household of a doctor/shoemaker.

Reading the book this week, alongside various news sources, it felt like Dickens was writing about  thoughts and feelings across America. Depending on who you ask, it seems like either the best or worst of times. There is hope for some and despair for others. Some voice eager expectations and others bemoan an impending jeremiad. Many who are far brighter, more connected, and with deeper insights than I, have written, and will continue to write about how these themes play out in contemporary American civic and political life.

But this time through the book I was captivated by a different thought. In the midst of the multi-national turmoil of the French Revolution, Sydney Carton found redemption in a small corner of that upheaval by his very personal choice. Carton did not still the guillotines, or bring peace between the classes. Instead, Carton sacrificed his one life to save one family from the loss and grief that awaited those named  Evremonde. One man's life given made a way for Lucie and Darnay to enjoy life, love, and their family together.

I find myself thinking about immigration issues in contemporary America. I cannot fix that which ails our immigration system. I cannot fix what drives people to feel so desperate that they must leave all that they have known to try to make their way to the U.S. I cannot fix the strong emotions on all sides of these issues that are diving families, friends, and communities across our country. But, like Sydney Carton, I can do what I can to help who I can. In this coming year (and probably beyond), I have committed to working with an agency in the Minneapolis area that works in the area of refugee resettlement. Whether it will be tutoring for citizenship exams, or filing paperwork on behalf of refugee families, I will do what I can to make a difference in small ways, rather than merely lament the conditions in which we all find ourselves.

Perhaps your issue is something other than immigration. Maybe human trafficking. Maybe literacy. Maybe other kinds of education. Maybe health and wellness. Maybe hunger relief. Whatever it is, what small thing can you do in 2025 to make a difference? No one is looking to you (or to me) to fix whatever the big issue may be. But you can make a life-altering difference for one person, one family, one community!