Here we are.
I voted and you voted and lots and lots of people have voted. Democracy has run its course.
But I kind of feel like the teenager who crashed the car and then tried to cover up the big dent in the fender. It’s an exercise in futility. We can’t hide the damage.
And we did it. We let it get to this place even though we know better, and are called to better. We’re complicit.
What do we really wake up to tomorrow? Wounds. Mistrust. Faithlessness. They are the elephants, and donkeys, in the room and they are hungry.
What are we going to feed them?
Two weeks ago, I went to Walgreens. I had just said to my brother “When I know that people are going to vote for that candidate, I feel like it tells me something about them. Something flawed. Something false. Something damaging.”
And then I parked next to a car with bumper stickers for that candidate all over it. I had seen it before, in the parking lot at church. Great, I thought. Hope I don’t know them.
But as I was standing in front of the cold remedies, a sweet voice said “Jen?” I turned and it was a woman I know well, a woman I have prayed with, a woman who hugged me hello. It hit me that it was her car.
That is what I thought, I swear to goodness.
Then I was ashamed. What am I doing?
This election has not been our best moment. We have damaged ourselves as Americans, as people of faith, as a light shining in the darkness. The false prophets and kingdom builders have been exposed as the charlatans they are.
And we can either carry on as we have, self-serving and self-righteous, feeding what we want to hear and be.
Or we can decide that this was our wake-up call, and feed what we need to hear and be.
I’ll see you tomorrow.