Ten months into Donald Trump’s presidency, the brutal reality of politics is setting in. The Trump admin’s first 100 days were all lighting and thunder and vibes, along with a fair number of concrete victories. But political activity in a bitterly divided two-party system is more like trench warfare than a flamboyant cavalry charge, and many on the right are becoming disillusioned by the lack of progress.
Trump signed a host of executive orders, but Congress has done little to further them through legislation or secure them against the whims of the next Democrat president. With a horde of insidious (and often ludicrous) rulings, rogue judges have eagerly sabotaged the executive actions that have some chance of effectiveness in the daily drama that is their judicial coup. Housing and health care prices remain frustratingly (even disastrously) high, and the average first-time homebuyer is now 40 years old. The U.S. is still on pace for more than 1 million abortions this year, and AI-generated evils only seem to multiply. Meanwhile, deportation efforts struggle with the crushing weight of years of incentivized illegal immigration.
As the administration wrestled with these issues and the right became embroiled in its own controversies, a socialist immigrant took charge of the United States’ largest city, and a man who fantasized about killing his political opponents became the attorney general in Virginia, sending ominous signals about the Republican Party’s chances in the 2026 midterms. In a tragic turn of events on Thanksgiving Eve, two West Virginia National Guardsmen were shot while patrolling the streets of D.C., allegedly by an Afghan national.
The Foolishness of Right-Wing Despair
Is America in a dark place in many ways? Yes. It looks darker still when you recall that Charlie Kirk was murdered (in front of millions via social media) 11 weeks ago, less than a year after helping orchestrate one of the greatest political comebacks of all time. But regardless of how dark things seem, there is simply no good grounds for believing the comeback Charlie fought for was pointless or that — more illogically — the election of Kamala Harris would have been better or no different.
At very least, the American people have been spared Harris’ radical pro-abortion stances, her obsequious support of gender ideology, and her all-around incompetence, along with an entire term’s worth of speeches on being “unburdened by what has been” and Harris “growing up in middle-class household.” Further, there was no realistic scenario in which the right’s coalition was going to dig America out of the hole it was in within 10 months with a six-seat majority in the House and the Senate, and the pooh-poohing of what Trump has managed to accomplish does little except demoralize the troops and entertain the doomsayers.
Because of Trump, pro-life advocate Bevelyn Williams will spend this Thanksgiving with her family instead of behind bars. Trump also pardoned more than 20 other pro-life activists. Additionally, he has relentlessly proclaimed the truth about male and female from the day he took office. The pundits who harp on the fragility of Trump’s executive branch actions on things like male and female should also recognize that the nation’s leader refusing to bow to transgender ideology emboldens those on the side of reality and intimidates businesses, organizations, and entities (like the Olympic Committee and the University of Pennsylvania) that might otherwise be shamelessly promoting pronouns and men in women’s spaces.
These important examples are just a few among many, many more. But in light of the longstanding tradition in America of setting aside a day to give thanks to God, I’d like to lay out four foundational reasons to give thanks for this great country that don’t hinge on recent political wins or owning the libs.
Four Foundational Reasons to Give Thanks
First, I am thankful for the United States because of the freedom to worship God. The Pilgrims came to these shores 400 years ago and suffered, starved, and died to obtain this freedom. Countless others have done the same to maintain it. The Sunday after Thanksgiving, my wife and children and I will go to church to sing and pray and listen to the word of God, as millions of Americans have done since that first Thanksgiving. If the suffering of Christians in Nigeria and elsewhere does not chase away any lack of gratefulness for the blessing of religious freedom, it shows, sadly, how little we deserve it.
Second, I thank God for America simply because America is my country. He could have put me anywhere else, but He didn’t. I was born in this country, and I can’t go and be born somewhere else. I have lived here my entire life thus far, and I likely always will. Ronald Reagan famously warned that “If we lose freedom here, there is no place to escape to. This is the last stand on Earth.” But the truth is worse than that. Even if we were able to find freedom in some other country, we would have lost, perhaps forever, the ability to exercise that freedom in our native land, in our hometowns, among the places of our childhoods and the histories of our ancestors. So we ought to be thankful for it as long as we have it because it’s ours and it’s the only country we’ve got.
Third, I’m thankful for America because the God we are supposed to be giving thanks to on Thanksgiving is good and worthy of our gratitude. America is still a good gift, and failing to give thanks for it is ultimately a failure to grasp God’s character and give Him the worship and praise He deserves. Might we be tempted to wish that we had been born in America before income taxes, legalized abortion, and the rise of the bureaucratic deep state? Sure, but God chose this time, and, as J.R.R. Tolkien wisely wrote, “All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us.”
Lastly, I can be thankful for the United States of America because America is not my ultimate home or final resting place. As wonderful as it is, America is not — and never will be — utopia, paradise, the Promised Land, or the New Jerusalem. It is, on its best day, a shadow, an echo, a foretaste of the everlasting home that awaits all who put their faith in Jesus Christ. For that reason, I’m free to give thanks for what America is instead of always bemoaning what it can hint at but never be — heaven.
Joshua Monnington is an assistant editor at The Federalist. He was previously an editor at Regnery Publishing and is a graduate of Midwestern Baptist Theological Seminary.
