photo #1500908

It was coming on dusk, and old man Morgan and his wife Ann were sitting on the back porch listening to the drizzle on the weathered tin roof. Like a normal Sunday, they'd only milked the cow, fed the chickens, and slopped the hogs. Some things couldn't be ignored, no matter the weather or day. Ann was putting a few patches over other patches on his favorite pair of overalls. Their dog was stretched out, snoring, in between them. Morgan had been deep in thought after they'd watched their favorite service on TV, the one with a camera and circuit ridin' preacher, but then left the TV on and heard all the latest news. Usually, they only turned it on in the mornings for the weather and farm reports, preferring to listen to their favorite retro country music on the radio at other times. What happened outside their fences didn't have much bearing on their lives, good or bad. Nobody else paid their bills, fed their animals, did the chores, or lent a hand. They'd never asked for help in their lives, and weren't about to start now. Yeah, at 72, Morgan took a little longer to climb up onto his old Ford tractor, but he could still do a day's work. He could still get into trouble, too, as evidenced by Friday's escapade. Ann had just finished doing the laundry by hand as usual, and hung it on the line to dry before lunch. Morgan had planned and decided to till the twenty acres next to the house, but forgot to check the wind direction and didn't even realize there was a problem until Ann came at him with her flyswatter. Needless to say, he got lost for the rest of the day 'till supper, where he found a cold sandwich waiting on him and an even colder shoulder. It took 'most of a half hour of apologizing before they were both laughing about her chasing him with her flyswatter like she did the animals. He'd met her after he got out of the military, and they were like peas and carrots. Most of the time, they both knew what the other was thinking without talking. Now, they were both in silent concentration over their thoughts. They'd faced down all their problems back to back against the world with God's help, but now they were both worried about what people in the churches were doing in the name of God, and a universally silent congregation that appeared to support them. It was unreal. It had started long ago, when churches became politicized after selling out for the almighty dollar. Then, synods started activist interpretations to appeal to larger audiences that weren't comfortable with God's truth. They began voting for politicians that supported abortions, same sex marriages, and perpetrated lies to further their ungodly agendas. This morning, they found out the Evangelical Lutherans had just consecrated their first transgender bishop. Yeah, it's the truth. Search it. Morgan sighed, and a tear ran down his cheek as he realized that the America he'd served in the military and fed for so many difficult years didn't exist any more. No, things in their world weren't going to change, but the world certainly was outside their fences. He thought about the economy, and taxes being increased to spread this cancerous agenda worldwide, and another tear escaped. Rather than allow the transgressions of the foolhardy to preoccupy his mind, he just reached out his hand and held Ann's instead. She kinda smiled, but he could see a tear running down her cheek, too. As they headed indoors for the night, he couldn't help wondering how far his once invincible nation would fall before it regained sanity. At his age, he could only take care of his now. It's up to them.