Growing up as a young boy in America, I was groomed to believe that the United States was the greatest nation on Earth—and that defending such a nation was the greatest heroic act a boy from Ohio could perform.
I was given multiple Nerf guns for various birthdays. Nerf guns turned into cork guns, which turned into BB guns, which eventually led to a .22 caliber rifle for my high school graduation gift. None of this is the fault of my parents or their parents; it’s simply an example of the system capturing the attention of moldable young men. Some of my earliest memories are of playing with toy soldiers on the floor of my parents’ kitchen, setting up my own battlefields and knocking out the enemy as America prevailed as the winners.
In several other early childhood memories, I am wearing my grandfather’s olive drab WWII uniforms, running around the backyard, hiding behind trees and stalking Nazis—just like my grandfather did. And he was a hero. I had “Support the Troops” posters on my bedroom walls during Operation Desert Storm. I even remember watching footage of that war on the news and thinking how badly I wanted to be just like those soldiers when I grew up.
Then I grew up.
At 19 years old, I found myself in Kuwait supporting Operation Iraqi Freedom and Operation Enduring Freedom. At 21 years of age, I found myself right in the center of the action at Balad Air Base, Iraq. I had made it. I was a hero. I was fighting the war of my time, defending my country—the greatest nation on Earth. I was a hero.
Shortly after my return stateside, it became evident that I wasn’t a hero of shit. By that point, the narrative had changed so many times that I didn’t know what the truth was anymore. At first, the U.S. invasion of Iraq was justified through Saddam Hussein’s alleged ties to al-Qaeda and the claim that he was harboring weapons of mass destruction. When no WMDs were found, the narrative shifted to liberating the Iraqi people from a tyrannical dictator. Then, after removing Hussein, the mission became bringing democracy to Iraq and training the Iraqi military.
This is when I first began to distrust the United States government. Watching all of this unfold—while simultaneously being used as a pawn in their game of foolishness and elite power flexing across the world—I realized very quickly that these men were creating a problem in order to solve the problem, which inadvertently lined their pockets with gold.
An even harder, but very real, pill to swallow was the realization that what happened with the Iraq War would have been no different if Al Gore had been elected instead of Bush. These men are evil—no doubt. Disgusting human beings. But they are also exactly what the elites look for: people who can be bribed and puppeteered into advancing an agenda that doesn’t truly originate with them.
Over time, it became clear to me that it wasn’t George Bush who decided to invade Iraq. That decision felt like it came from above him—possibly from Israel, and perhaps from somewhere even higher. I can’t prove this, and I’m not asking anyone to accept it as fact, but in my lived experience it feels like forces beyond ordinary human ambition are at work—forces that thrive on war, diversion, and distraction.
Whether through endless conflict or through numbing outlets like drugs, alcohol, lust, pornography, and mindless scrolling—anything that captures and fractures our attention—it all feels part of the same pattern. This is no longer politics. This is spiritual warfare.
Now fast forward to today.
The exact same create a problem, then create the solution thing that happened with the Iraq War is happening again, just in a different storyline. Only this time, the battlefield is the streets of America.
The left allowed immigrants in, and now the right has to “fix” it—by whatever means necessary. The rights of U.S. citizens are being violated every day. The streets of America have become a war zone as U.S. citizens are given military power without proper training—i.e., ICE, DHS, CBP, etc. And U.S. citizens are killing other U.S. citizens. This is, by definition, civil war.
Meanwhile, when I open Facebook, I see my right-leaning friends reiterating Fox News talking points, while my left-leaning friends criticize Trump. The truth is, it wouldn’t matter if Kamala had been elected—we would be in the same situation. But Kamala wasn’t elected because Trump was the better person to play the “savior.” He was the perfect character to keep us distracted while our rights are stripped away and we turn a blind eye to the overbearing, Nazi-like control being executed on the streets of our country. All of it justified of course, because, you know—immigration, and we’ve gotta fix the problem at all costs. Simultaneously, the war for your soul progresses onward.
So what is the solution?
Don’t buy into it. Turn inward. Find peace from within. YOU ARE YOUR OWN SAVIOR. Trump will not save you. The next president will not save you. And unless your understanding of Jesus Christ directs you inward, he will not save you either.
If everyone stopped listening to and reacting to their drama—if everyone turned inward and recognized their own divinity—we could shut this whole thing down. By recognizing our own divinity, we begin to recognize the divinity within each other. And this is the real gold. This is like the flag in a game of capture the flag. If you get this, you win. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. That’s it—you win.
And this is precisely what this spiritual war is designed to keep us from remembering.
So I’d like to challenge you: the next time you turn on the news, open social media, or find yourself in a political conversation, take a moment to reflect. Look inward. See if you can find that small spark of divinity within yourself—within your neighbor, or even within your so-called enemy.
Once we find that spark, skin color doesn’t matter. Where you’re from doesn’t matter. Right and left don’t matter. There are no sides, because we are all one. Once we remember our divinity, this entire immigration narrative would implode on itself, and one small battle would be won in the greatest war of all.