We Have Forgotten How to Blush

A critique of the American Evangelical Church during the second Trump presidency

Last week America celebrated its 249th birthday. Like many of you, Karen and I celebrated together with friends while watching the neighbors propel multiple hundreds of dollars’ worth of fireworks into the air above us. (I’ve got to admit… in spite of my conviction about the unnecessary expense, they looked pretty cool).

During our nation’s birthday week, a number of events with far-reaching implications took place, including the tragic floods in Texas that gripped the heart of the nation. The death toll exceeded that of any flood event for decades. Unsurprisingly, there is already internal reporting that the Trump administration cuts to FEMA have reduced the number of personnel who ordinarily would have been involved in the recovery efforts. Like so much of the DOGE project, the cuts they instigated often proved to be reckless and capricious. With the prime hurricane season still in front of us, we have yet to see to what extent the federal relief efforts will be impacted.

Last week we were also reminded that much of the Trump agenda runs in direct contradiction to Christian moral principles of truth, justice, and charity. Sadly, however, that moral tension seemed to barely register on the radar of politically active Evangelicals. I offer three examples.

On July 1st, USAID was officially shuttered. The congressionally established governmental organization, one of the first to fall to the DOGE onslaught, has for over five decades been the most consistent enemy of world hunger on the planet, far outstripping efforts mounted by the private sector. Karen and I, like many of you, give consistently to Christian NGOs in order to combat global poverty. But the elimination of USAID from the charity landscape will leave a gigantic hole that is nearly impossible to fill, estimated to result in fourteen million additional deaths over the next five years. God’s people, whom Jesus called to minister to the “least of these,” ought to be deeply troubled. Instead, I have heard next to nothing. Apparently our concern for the “least of these” is minimalized when the “least” live very far away and don’t look like us.

About the same time, the Senate was entrenched in the effort by Republicans to affirm Trump’s so called One Big Beautiful Bill Act and return it to the House for passage. In order to overcome objections, Senate Republicans engaged in an exercise of budget chicanery that deliberately ignored Senate rules and precedent related to the Budget reconciliation process. They simply changed the rules for calculating the budget and decided that, because the tax cuts the bill proposed had already been put into effect since 2017, they ought to no longer be calculated as adding to the deficit moving forward. The bill clearly adds $4.5 trillion to the deficit over the next decade, but after their sleight of hand, Republicans claimed that $3.8 trillion of that amount “didn’t count.”

The fact that supposedly honest and competent senators could propose such a scheme and not raise the alarm and ire of the public is testimony to the outlandishly sheepish nature of the Republican Party. As economists have observed, this move is equivalent to asserting that just because I’m used to paying my Xfinity bill, my decision to renew my contract for another three years will cost me nothing. It’s pure nonsense – a boldfaced deception. Even more so when it comes from the party that supposedly is especially committed to trimming the deficit. That kind of behavior deserves critique of the first order, especially from Christ followers who are committed to truthfulness in all of their dealings. And how has the Evangelical Community responded thus far? Crickets.

On July 3rd at a purportedly bipartisan “Salute to America” event in Iowa, President Trump declared to a raucous and decidedly partisan crowd, “They wouldn’t vote [for the spending bill], only because they hate Trump. But I hate them, too. You know that? I really do. I hate them. I cannot stand them, because I really do believe they hate our country.”

In our present political environment, the gravity of that statement may be lost on us, but that was actually the first time in history that a president of the United States has openly declared his hatred of the opposition party. Past presidents may have felt similar emotions—they may have been provoked to wrath in private. But presidents up till now have recognized their calling to unite the nation and have refrained from such incendiary rhetoric. Not Trump. Instead, he seems to enjoy launching himself into the fray. That tendency seems particularly unwise considering the reality that a Minnesota state representative and her husband were murdered just three weeks ago in what appears to be a politically motivated attack.

I can almost see the eye-rolls of some of my MAGA friends and colleagues right now. “Give me a break,” they might argue. “Trump is admittedly a blowhard who specializes in bombast. Everyone knows that. Like Trump himself asserted the other day, we ought to give him some room to be sarcastic!”

To that I counter: Trump is the one who chose to make the issue all about him. His claim that Democrats refused to vote for this bill (one that will result in between 12-17 million losing their health insurance and that facilitates a massive transfer of wealth from the poorest 20% in America to the richest) because they “hate Trump” is a narcissistic delusion. His deliberate effort to villainize the Democratic Party is far from sarcastic. Liberal democracies are built upon the foundation of mutual respect between political opponents who disagree with each other. Civility toward those who disagree is not only a characteristic of Christ followers, it is a hallmark of democratic dialogue. Trump actively seeks to dismantle respect and weaponize distrust. By his telling, anyone who disagrees with him “hates Trump.”

After 10 full years during which Trump has dominated the political landscape, the events of the past week should not surprise me. The way the majority of my Christian friends are responding to such nonsense, however, continues to astound. According to Pew Research, “Around seven-in-ten White evangelicals rate the ethics of top Trump administration officials as good (35%) or excellent (34%). By contrast, among the public overall, most (62%) rate the ethics of the Trump administration as only fair or poor.” The way I interpret that, my unbelieving friends and neighbors have a better nose for the Trump administration’s lack of ethical foundation than do my own brothers and sisters in Christ. Donald Trump and the MAGA movement have not only taken over the GOP; they have reshaped the Evangelical Church. That reshaping is profoundly demonstrated in their (our) willingness to normalize unethical behavior.

Are they ashamed of their detestable conduct? No, they have no shame at all; they do not even know how to blush. (Jeremiah 6:15)

Back in the 90’s, during his last decade on earth, my dad was often asked to preach from a sermon series he entitled “The Human Face of God.” In it, he examined some of the uncommon anthropomorphisms in Scripture and expounded on what they tell us about the God’s character. “When God Spits,” “When God Laughs,” and “When God Winks” were some of the titles. The one that always struck me the hardest was “When God Blushed.” In that sermon Dad spoke about the human propensity to grow accustomed to sin—to become so habituated to wantonness that we don’t even blush at the things that cause God to blush.

I have often thought about that sermon and its present day applicability during the past decade. Humans normalize sin for a variety of reasons: to justify what they find pleasurable, for example, or to defend questionable actions taken out of self-interest. The justifications flow quite readily. “Others do even worse,” we might argue. Or, “I’m fighting for a just cause.”

The contention that the ends justify the means has gained quite a following among Evangelicals during the Trump era. How often have you heard, “We’re not electing a pastor—we’re electing a president! In our corrupt political environment, we don’t need a leader who pussy foots around. We need a leader who is willing to get his hands dirty.” By means of that excuse, all manner of bad behavior is justified. Those who shouted most loudly that “character matters” during the Clinton administration now embrace Trump, not simply in spite of his character flaws, but because of them.

I understand his appeal. Trump’s colloquial, meandering speaking style definitely has an “everyman” quality to it. Though his cynical, mocking air appalls me, his sense of humor is intriguing and his quips are often masterfully timed. He mysteriously invokes the impression that he understands your pain, even though he himself has led an exceedingly charmed existence.

In spite of his remarkable advantages, however, he remains willfully vindictive, spiteful, capricious, and transactional in the extreme. What may have shocked us in the early stages of Trump’s political career is now simply another expression of the Trump brand. The normalization follows a predictable pattern: At first, puzzlement over condemnable behavior, which then gives way to excusing it and eventually becomes a full throated acceptance. In the first Trump campaign, his “locker room talk” at first gave my fellow Christians pause, but they soon graduated to “the perfect phone call” with Zelenskyy, then to fully embracing the election lie and, when Trump left office, to doubling down on the “big lie” and to calling the intruders at the Capitol “patriots.”

In the second presidency, the wheels are already greased. There is not even the hint of a blush when Trump fires the Inspectors General, spirits immigrants away to El Salvador in the middle of the night without affording them due process, calls for judges who oppose him to be impeached, and actively defies court orders. Evangelicals, who have long prided themselves on being proponents of law and order, now aggressively support a president when he defies the constitutional rule of law. 

The Steady Descent into Hypocrisy

I contend that the Evangelical Church has fallen prey to a grave deception. Trump knew and understood our longing to “influence the culture.” He has successfully harnessed that desire to the MAGA populist agenda. Evangelicals who have long sought after people of influence who could shape cultural norms in keeping with their value system were quick to go along, perhaps oblivious to the dark quest for power inherent in Trump’s movement (or perhaps deliberately embracing it). Evangelicals have acquiesced to the aspirations of “the MAGA tribe,” so much so that they no longer recognize how profoundly the tribe parts ways with Jesus. A few strategically placed buzzwords—abortion rights, transgender participants in sports, or “the woke agenda”—are sufficient to lull them into believing that Trump and Jesus are on the same team.

The Church’s failed moral leadership regarding the MAGA agenda is not simply a political matter. It has far reaching spiritual ramifications. The legitimacy of the Church’s witness is at stake. Many who might have been spiritually open to Christianity are asking the question, “If Christians are gullible enough to fall for Trump’s self-serving lies that he won the 2020 election, why should I trust what they have to say about ultimate matters of life after death?” In point of fact, Evangelicals have shown themselves to be especially vulnerable to Trump’s authoritarian leanings and have are all too willing to surrender cherished democratic principles such as the separation of powers. We see it played out in real time. The deafening drumbeat of Trump’s claims of government fraud and incompetence combined with his flood of executive orders has numbed our ability to discern the true facts on the ground. The Trump playbook, as famously articulated by Steve Bannon, is to “flood the zone with sh__.” Our nation now finds itself buried in it.

Trusting a treacherous person at a difficult time is like having a bad tooth or a wobbly foot.  (Proverbs 25:19)

One of the more remarkable examples of how the Church has been willing to shift its loyalty relates to Russia’s invasion of Ukraine. The majority opinion among Evangelicals in 2022 was a robust denunciation of Russia’s militancy and robust praise for the resilient Ukrainians. Trump, on the other hand, has always expressed skepticism toward Ukraine. He continuously redacted his lackluster support for its democratically elected leadership until it devolved into an outright defense of the Russian point of view. On the three-year anniversary of Russia’s attack, the US ambassador to the UN voted with Russia and North Korea against impugning Russia with the full blame for the war. Shortly thereafter, our Commander in Chief ordered our government to stop sharing intelligence with Ukraine. This policy change, though ultimately rescinded, resulted in hundreds of additional casualties according to Ukrainian officials. One officer stated bluntly, “This is not politics – this is treachery!”

Steve Witkoff, the US special envoy to the Middle East, in an utter revocation of Reagan foreign policy, regularly parrots Russian talking points that Ukraine is responsible for the continuation of the war. And Republican lawmakers hardly blinked last week when Hegseth, apparently without consulting the president (think about that for a moment!), canceled an approved shipment of Patriot missiles that are essential to Ukraine’s air defense. 

Speaking of Hegseth, allow me a brief aside. Imagine, if you will, that you fill the shoes of 4-star General Charles Q. Brown, Jr. All your adult life you have demonstrated an exceptional capacity for leadership in what many consider to be the most prestigious meritocracy in the world—the United States military. You now enjoy the untarnished affirmation of your peers and your country as the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. If any job on the planet could be described as having been earned, it is this one.

Then, Trump is elected to his second term. The person who he appoints as your new boss is not only your inferior in respect to his rank, he is your inferior in every aspect of his character. He is a known philanderer (adultery is a betrayal of the military code of conduct), a known drunkard, and a known misogynist. He possesses no strategic expertise that qualifies him to lead 1.3 million active duty personnel. His only qualifications appear to be his square jaw that looks good on television combined with his willingness to support Trump’s every whim, even when it runs contrary to the constitution.

Then, imagine that the newly reelected president fires you in the middle of your four-year term. He apparently agrees with Hegseth, who had the audacity to write this about the circumstances of your appointment: “Was it because of his skin color? Or his skill? We’ll never know, but always doubt.” Coming from a man who never advanced beyond the rank of captain while serving in the United States Army but now serves as Secretary of Defense, the hypocrisy of this statement is as laughable as it is tragic. It ought to make our skin crawl. But did Republican lawmakers stand up in defense of a Black four-star general who was highly respected by his fellow officers? We know the answer to that. They did, however, insist (without evidence) that Hegseth had reformed his ways and could be trusted not to drink on this job. They have forgotten how to blush.

Returning to Trump’s Ukraine policy, it is impossible to imagine that Evangelicals during the Reagan era might have remained silent if the US ambassador to the UN aligned with the Soviet Union and against free Europe! And yet, here we are. Christian believers, of all people, ought to understand that treaties are akin to covenants. They are not merely transactional arrangements, as Trump seems to see them. We dare not forget that the US engaged in a Trilateral Agreement (covenant) with Russia and Ukraine promising to stand up for Ukraine’s independence in exchange for Ukraine’s willingness to give up its nuclear arsenal (the third largest in the world at that time). A covenant to defend implies that a nation will offer assistance regardless of whether or not it receives a calculable benefit. Our European allies recognize how dangerous the world is if NATO treaty agreements aren’t taken seriously. Christians who know from their scriptures what a covenant entails, ought to be troubled, as well.

Conclusion: A Call to Righteous Resistance

Centuries ago the prophet Jeremiah, at risk to his own life, boldly spoke words of harsh rebuke to a nation that purported to obey Yahweh but were in fact only loyal to their own best interests.

“From the least to the greatest,
    all are greedy for gain;
prophets and priests alike,
    all practice deceit.
They dress the wound of my people
    as though it were not serious.
‘Peace, peace,’ they say,
    when there is no peace.
Are they ashamed of their detestable conduct?
    No, they have no shame at all;
    they do not even know how to blush.” 

The Evangelical Church in America must recover its prophetic voice. We are called to be a people who mourn over sin rather than rationalize it—who stand for truth even when it is politically costly. We presently have a president who lies without blushing and threatens to “primary” any Republican lawmaker who dares to publicly disagrees with him. Sadly, many Christ followers have not only become numb to his bullying behavior, they have appropriated it. Our witness has been tarnished not because we engage in politics, but because we do so without discernment and without humility. We excuse what Christ would confront and embrace leaders whose character contradicts what Christ commands.

This is not just a political crisis—it is a spiritual one. The moral confusion of the Evangelical Church has become so entrenched that many no longer recognize it as such. Having accepted our tribe’s partisan point of view, we vilify “the other” as the enemy—considering them unworthy of our respect. Christ’s clarion call to “love your enemies” and “do good to those who despitefully use you” fails to land in our hearts. Evangelical cockiness is all too familiar to the people around us. Job’s sarcastic complaint to his comforters could aptly be levied at us: “Doubtless you are the only people who matter, and wisdom will die with you!” (Job 12:2)

I am not contending that Evangelicals ought to abandon the Republican Party. I am simply pleading for a more critical approach. Our willingness to look the other way when Trump and his administration clearly violate both constitutional and God ordained moral law serves neither our nation nor its leadership. Regaining our prophetic voice will only happen when we rediscover what it means to be ashamed of sin, including our own. When we learn once again how to blush.

https://www.pewresearch.org/short-reads/2025/04/28/white-evangelicals-continue-to-stand-out-in-their-support-for-trump/

https://www.cnn.com/2025/07/08/politics/hegseth-did-not-inform-white-house-ukraine-weapons-pause

https://time.com/7265679/satellites-front-failing-hundreds-dead-fallout-trump-ukraine-aid-pause/

https://www.nationalreview.com/corner/falling-for-putin/

https://www.npr.org/sections/goats-and-soda/2025/01/28/g-s1-45030/pepfar-trump-drugs-stop-work

6 thoughts on “We Have Forgotten How to Blush

  1. I think you have a GREAT argument for a Third and/or Fourth party…Corruption is endemic on both sides of the aisle…Our nation has become a nation of finger pointing rather than looking for mutual solutions to virtually any problem we face…

  2. As a MAGA conservative Christian, I feel compelled to respond to this critique with a perspective that I hope is grounded in faith, patriotism, and a commitment to biblical truth. While Steve raises concerns about the Evangelical Church’s alignment with President Trump’s second term, I believe his analysis misses the mark in several key areas and fails to appreciate the broader context of why so many Christians support him. Let me address the main points with charity but also with clarity, standing firm in the conviction that God is sovereign and works through imperfect leaders to accomplish His purposes.

    1. The Role of Government and Christian Responsibility

    The critique decries the closure of USAID and FEMA budget cuts, framing them as a betrayal of Christian charity. As a conservative Christian, I share the grief over lives lost to natural disasters or global poverty, but I firmly believe the Bible assigns the primary responsibility for caring for the poor and needy to the Church and individuals, not the federal government (Matthew 25:35-40, James 1:27). Scripture calls believers to be the hands and feet of Christ, directly ministering to the “least of these” with compassion and efficiency, rather than relying on sprawling government programs that often prioritize bureaucracy over impact.

    Government initiatives like USAID, while often launched with good intentions, frequently suffer from inefficiencies that undermine their effectiveness and often lack any form of oversight or accountability. Reports from the Government Accountability Office (GAO) have repeatedly documented USAID’s struggles with high administrative costs—sometimes consuming up to 20% of its budget, and instances of aid being siphoned off by corruption in recipient countries. For example, a 2023 GAO report highlighted how only 60-70% of USAID’s funds for certain African aid programs reached their intended communities due to logistical bottlenecks and local mismanagement. Such inefficiencies clash with the biblical call to steward resources wisely (Luke 16:10-12). The DOGE project’s push to streamline or eliminate bloated programs reflects a conservative commitment to fiscal responsibility, which many Christians view as aligning with God’s mandate to use resources prudently for maximum impact.

    In contrast, private Christian charities like Samaritan’s Purse, World Vision, and Compassion International consistently demonstrate superior agility and effectiveness in delivering aid. For instance, Samaritan’s Purse reported in 2024 that 92% of its budget went directly to program services, providing food, medical care, and disaster relief to over 11 million people across 50 countries. These organizations operate with leaner overheads and a gospel-driven mission, ensuring aid reaches those in need while sharing the hope of Christ. During the 2025 Texas floods, faith-based groups like Convoy of Hope mobilized within hours, delivering thousands of meals and supplies to affected communities, often outpacing FEMA’s response. This track record underscores the Church’s capacity to fill gaps when government programs are scaled back.

    The alarming claim that USAID’s closure will result in “fourteen million additional deaths” over five years is dangerously speculative and lacks credible grounding. This figure appears to assume that USAID’s contributions are irreplaceable, ignoring the robust ecosystem of global aid, including efforts by other nations, NGOs, and multilateral organizations like the World Food Programme. Without transparent data—such as specific metrics tying USAID’s funding to lives saved—this projection risks exaggerating the impact to score political points. Moreover, it dismisses the Church’s proven ability to mobilize resources effectively. American Christians donated over $130 billion to religious charities in 2024, according to Giving USA, and redirecting even a fraction of this generosity could address needs previously met by USAID. Historically, the Church has risen to such challenges, from the early Christians caring for the poor in the Roman Empire to 19th-century missionaries building hospitals in developing nations—all without government backing.

    Furthermore, the critique overlooks the broader fiscal context driving these cuts. With the federal deficit projected to reach $2 trillion annually by 2028 (per CBO estimates), unchecked spending threatens America’s economic stability. A nation crippled by debt cannot sustain global charity or domestic disaster relief long-term. The Trump administration’s focus on fiscal discipline, including DOGE’s streamlining efforts, aims to prioritize critical needs—like border security and veteran care—ensuring America remains strong enough to lead generously (1 Timothy 5:8). Christians supporting these policies aren’t indifferent to global suffering; they’re advocating for a sustainable approach that empowers the Church to lead with compassion and efficiency.

    In short, the critique’s reliance on speculative doomsday scenarios and its dismissal of the Church’s capacity to act reflect a misplaced faith in government over God’s people. As MAGA conservative Christians, we trust that the Church, empowered by the Holy Spirit, can meet global needs with greater impact than any bureaucratic programs, all while honoring our biblical call to stewardship and charity.

    2. Truth, Integrity, and Political Realities

    Steve accuses Republicans of “budget chicanery” and labels Trump’s rhetoric as deceptive, citing the One Big Beautiful Bill Act and his inflammatory comments at the Iowa event. As Christians, we are called to uphold truth (Proverbs 12:22), and I agree that political leaders should be held to a high standard. However, the critique ignores the broader context of a deeply polarized political landscape. Trump’s bold, unfiltered style resonates with many Evangelicals because he speaks directly to their frustrations with a corrupt political establishment that has often dismissed their values. The budget reconciliation process, while complex, reflects the reality of governing in a divided system where both sides use procedural tactics to advance their agendas. To single out Republicans as uniquely dishonest is unfair when Democrats have also manipulated rules for their benefit.

    As for Trump’s “hate” rhetoric, I don’t condone divisive language, but we must acknowledge that politics has always been a rough-and-tumble arena. Trump’s frustration with opponents who, in his view, obstruct policies that benefit Americans, resonates with many who feel the Left has vilified conservatives for years. Christians should call for civility, yes, but we also recognize that Jesus Himself used strong language against hypocrisy (Matthew 23:27-28). Trump is not our pastor, nor do we expect him to be. He’s a political leader navigating a fallen world, and his policies—such as protecting religious liberty, defending the unborn, and prioritizing American sovereignty—align more closely with biblical values than those of his opponents.

    3. The Moral High Ground and Hypocrisy

    The critique argues that Evangelicals have normalized unethical behavior by supporting Trump, pointing to his personal flaws and policy decisions like firing Inspectors General or his stance on Ukraine. Let’s be clear: no Christian claims Trump is sinless. The Bible is full of examples of God using flawed leaders—David, Moses, even Cyrus—to accomplish His will (Isaiah 45:1). Evangelicals support Trump not because of his personal character but because his policies advance causes we hold dear: protecting life, preserving religious freedom, and countering cultural trends that undermine biblical truth. Steve’s comparison to the Clinton era is a false equivalence; Clinton’s moral failings were coupled with policies that directly contradicted Christian values, while Trump’s policies more often align with them.

    The focus on Ukraine is particularly misguided. Many Americans question the wisdom of pouring billions into a foreign conflict while our own borders remain unsecured and our veterans go underserved. Trump’s skepticism toward Ukraine reflects a pragmatic “America First” approach, not a rejection of covenants or moral obligations. The claim that his administration’s actions led to “hundreds of additional casualties” is unverified and inflammatory. Christians can support Ukraine’s sovereignty while also prioritizing our nation’s resources and security, as Scripture calls us to be wise stewards (Luke 16:10).

    4. The Church’s Prophetic Voice

    Steve calls for the Church to recover its “prophetic voice” and blush at sin. I agree wholeheartedly that we must stand for righteousness and confront sin, starting with ourselves (1 Peter 4:17). But he paints Evangelicals as blindly loyal to Trump, which oversimplifies our position. Many of us wrestle with his flaws and pray for him daily, as Scripture commands (1 Timothy 2:1-2). Our support is not uncritical; it’s pragmatic. We live in a culture increasingly hostile to Christian values—where religious liberty is under attack, unborn lives are discarded, and biblical definitions of marriage and gender are mocked. Trump, for all his imperfections, has proven a defender of our right to practice our faith freely. The alternative—policies that promote abortion on demand, erode parental rights, or silence Christian voices—is far worse.

    Steve’s claim that Evangelicals have lost their witness by supporting Trump ignores the greater threat: a secular culture that seeks to marginalize Christianity altogether. Our witness is not tarnished by engaging in politics but by failing to engage boldly. The Church must indeed speak prophetically, but that includes calling out the moral decay of a society that celebrates sin while condemning those who uphold biblical truth.

    5. A Call to Biblical Discernment

    Rather than despairing over Trump’s leadership or accusing Evangelicals of hypocrisy, I propose a call to biblical discernment. We must weigh leaders and policies against God’s Word, not worldly standards of perfection. Trump’s administration, like any, is imperfect, but it has delivered tangible victories for Christians: appointing conservative judges, protecting religious liberty, and standing against the radical Left’s agenda. These are not trivial matters. Steve’s appeal to Jeremiah 6:15 is poignant, but it applies equally to a culture that celebrates pride in sin while condemning those who call for repentance.

    As MAGA conservative Christians, we don’t worship Trump; we worship Christ. We support leaders who, despite their flaws, advance God’s kingdom values in a fallen world. Let’s continue to pray for our leaders, hold them accountable, and engage in politics with wisdom and humility, trusting that God is sovereign over all (Romans 13:1). The Church’s witness is not weakened by supporting Trump but strengthened when we stand unapologetically for truth, life, and liberty under God’s authority.

    In Christ,

    Jim Stockman

    1. Jim, I appreciate your well-considered and thought provoking response. It reminds me that it’s possible to disagree on the merits while still maintaining respect for one another.

  3. Thanks for sharing your perspective. It’s one I agree with fully, and I am grateful for the time and energy you took to put it into words. I have shared it with several friends. We live in a complicated time, and I often ask myself “How did we get here?” I think there are many factors, but it helpful to have something like this to simply acknowledge that we are truly missing the mark.

    Cheers, Bill Glad

    1. Thanks, Bill. I know it’s unlikely that I can substantially shape the opinion of those who disagree. But I think part of my calling is to let the non-MAGA members of our AG tribe know that there are a few of us who share the same deep concerns.

Leave a reply to Steve Pecota Cancel reply