There’s true beauty in belonging to the masses. I have friends that aren’t climbing ladders or too busy to lend you a hand. Actually,  they know how to lend you a hand because  they’ve replaced wax rings, built their own decks, and have spare plumbing parts.

The upper crust hires people to do such things. They don’t have tools in their garage, only fancy cars, waxed and polished, and hardly used.

Think about all the high-profile people burned by their association  with Epstein. They’re mostly a mess kit of smart, talented, but incestuous maggots getting rich off the hard labor of the  masses’. I say this because we look directly at Sint Barthemew from our humble condo on Sint Maarten. “St Barts” is where the decadent enjoy rubbing shoulders with each other. It’s all about high end dining, private beach clubs, designer boutiques, spa treatments, and luxury yachts. It’s Wall Street’s favorite island. And they keep the prices intentionally high to discourage the riff raff from staying too long.

Let me say, I’m not discouraging people from working hard and using their talents to get ahead. It’s just when I see people disconnecting from one class to join another that the red flags come out. We know this happens in the political realm but I’m speaking strictly about money and class here.

Before I go on, I must say there are also many wealthy people not associated with the maggots. Where botox and breast augmentation is not their thing. They’re,  charitable,  kind, and known publically and privately for their blessings and gifts to others. They’re not ego-driven or self-centered, they have a sense of contentment and purpose. The best ones know Jesus.

But today, I’m reminded of the others. Those who don’t have healthy relationships, clarity and calm. Most of these are like Epstein or politicians, or arrogant celebrities.

I’m reminded and thankful that the people we enjoy most are not like these. Rather they are the regular folks, the islanders, the blue collar road and bridge builders, the drywaller,  the bagger at the grocers. And as I wish our son to “be successful,” I also wish that he remain connected to the masses, the church goers, and the families of regular folks that supported him along  the way. I want him to dig his hands into the muddy earth and remember its Creator. And know that “all” are made in His image and to love them. And I want him to know money is a tool for good, a blessing to be shared with others, not to buy an island of sin and seduction. That the rain falls on the good and the evil, but what lasts for eternity comes from God.