I'm an American

For better or worse, I'm an American. I'm a plain old born-here-probably-die-here American. I love my country. I wouldn't want to live anywhere else. (Okay, well maybe if there were an American-held island in the Carribean without the threat of hurricanes...but I digress.)

I love the fact that I can go to the church of my choice on Sunday morning and sit with my family and not have to worry about all of us being blown to bits by the homicide bomber sitting next to me.

I love knowing that I have the right to go and vote (as safely as though I were at my own home) for the leaders who will represent my country, instead of living in fear under a brutal and ruthless dictator.


I love being able to drive to Walmart in my Ford mini-van, wearing my pajama pants and an old college sweatshirt (if I so choose, which I usually don't), with my hair pulled back in a ponytail without the fear of being dragged before a court of men who sentence me to death by stoning because I dared to show my face in public.

I love being able to choose how many children I want to have in my family, and not be forced to abort after only one or to abandon my baby girl because she is somehow worth less than a boy.

I could go on, but I think you can see where I'm headed here. So why is it that a country so blessed with freedoms, with liberties too abundant to name, is so hated by the more "progressive" countries of the world? Why is it that scores of people come to this country every day, legally and illegally, to seek freedoms their native countries deny them? Why are Americans deemed "permissive" and "decadent" and "sinful"?

I don't have an answer to these questions, but I do know that I love being an American and as long as this country tries to abide by the laws of our Constitution, as it is written and not as some judges try to twist it, then I will never apologize for it.