One night I had a wondrous dream,
One set of footprints there was seen,
The footprints of the Goddess they were,
But mine were not along the shore.
But then some stranger prints appeared,
and I asked Her, "What have we here?
These prints are large and round and neat,
But much too big to be from feet."
"My child," She said in somber tones,
"For miles I carried you alone.
"I challenged you to walk in faith,
"But you refused and made me wait.
"You would not learn, you would not grow,
"The walk of faith, you would not know,
"So I got tired, I got fed up,
"And there I dropped you on your butt.
"Because in life, there comes a time,
"When one must fight, and one must climb,
"When one must rise and take a stand,
"Or leave their buttprints in the sand."
The Pagan version of the "Footprints" poem reflects the importance of personal responsibility in most of our Traditions. If our situation sucks, we probably made a significant contribution to the suckage, and it's up to us to fix it. "For if you find not that which you seek within yourself, you will never find it without."
So now that we've allowed a Democratic majority in Congress and put a Marxist in the White House, are we going to just sit there in the sand?