God Chose Love

I'm about to do something I swore I wouldn't do. I'm going to chime in on the election. I've stayed fairly quiet about it, with the exception of a few comments here and there and the earful my poor spouse has endured over the months. There's a time when prudence demands you hold your tongue, but there's also a time to speak. I think this is it.

Here's the thing, I'm not concerned with who won - or who didn't. I've never cared much for politics. My life is held by God, and what happens on Earth doesn't shake the foundation I have in Him. If all the world crumbled, my future is secure. But despite that assurance, I can't stop crying. Ever since I heard the results, saw the news clips and photos of protesters, walked among my fellow Christians. My heart is broken. Can I take a minute to tell you why?

It's not that my faith is shaken. I have no fear for the next four years, no anxiety. I have faith that God is in control no matter what. So what breaks my heart?

I have some friends who were very against Trump, even one who has marched in a peaceful protest. But for the most part, my circle is deeply Republican - read deeply against Clinton - and I have never felt so isolated, so ostracized, in all my life. Why? Because I understand the opposition. I would never condone violence, and I don't plan to join any protests, but I understand their fear, and if I had any fear about this election myself, I would be more afraid of Trump too.

The purpose of this post is not to try to say one side is right and one is wrong. As with many conflicts, both are right. And both are wrong. And it all depends on your perspective. I'm brokenhearted because I don't see compassion - likely on either side, though I've only really been around those on one side of the debate. I don't see empathy. No one is even trying to understand.

So let me start by saying you aren't misogynistic racists anymore than they are entitled socialist brats. You're a person with a unique set of life experiences, a unique perspective. You've lived through things that have shaped what is most dear to you, and that's okay. That's good. If you're a Christian, I believe God has allowed you to live the exact life you did so you would be passionate about the exact things you are so God can use you to reach the exact people He needs you to reach.God didn't give us all a heart for children. If He did, who would reach for the adults? He didn't call us all to exemplify tough love. Some people need it, but others are crushed by it. So all I really want right now is to make my voice heard, to call out for empathy, even if no one hears me. I believe if we all sat down and took the time to hear each other's stories - really listen to them - we would have a lot more compassion. So, though it might not help, I'm going to lay out my reasons for my feelings about this whole thing.

It's two fold. The first is that God has given me a heart for the underdog, the downtrodden, the poor and mistreated. The very people who are frightened by Trump. Trump values strength, and his words have devalued the weak - though I pray his actions prove different. God has a special place for 'the least of these' in His heart, and that has always been the burden he has laid on mine. That's my heart, and that shapes my opinion. It's not more right than your opinion, it's just where God has chosen to point me.

The second is this: I have a little girl. She is going to turn two in exactly one week. I would give my life to protect her. My mission since the moment I found out she was a girl was to save her, to shelter her from a culture that has forced us to coin the term 'rape culture'. If you aren't a woman, or have somehow been sheltered from the things many of us have heard, seen and personally experienced, than you don't understand why we so vehemently opposed Trump. His words and actions in regards to women have cut me deeply. Every time someone tells me they support Trump, I quietly remind myself they have their reasons while I fight back feelings of hurt. One of my primary passions is to fight against a culture that would tell my daughter she is an object, and that if she shows any skin it's a man's right to force himself on her. You don't see electing Trump as a blow against women, but many of them do. There is a huge amount of wrath and anger I have to fight through when it comes to the mistreatment of women. This is just who God made me, it's the fight He put in me.

Your fight is different, and I would love to hear about it! But in person. I'll likely turn comments off again for this one considering the volatile nature of the subject matter. Knowing the fight that's in you would help me understand why you feel the way you do. And though we don't agree, maybe we can sympathize. I can understand those protesters (the non-violent ones at least) because if I didn't know that my little girl belongs to God, and her life is safe in His hands, I would probably be out there marching with them: marching for her.

Somewhere out there a person is marching in protest because their parents and grandparents had to stand in the back of the bus. That's their perspective. That's their fight. Somewhere there's a woman who has had to relive the horror of rape, and I promise you she doesn't understand why you don't see Trump the way she does. There's an immigrant who came illegally into this country to save his family from a life more horrific than you can imagine, and he's terrified of being sent back to that life. There's a man somewhere with a little girl, just like mine, who is afraid that if things had gone the other way they would have taken away his only way to protect her. He's not racist. He's not even thinking about minorities right now. And they aren't thinking about him. We're all chasing our own fears, telling our own stories. But we're screaming them! We aren't listening to anybody else's. And everyone's story matters!

I've spent the last few days feeling like my story didn't matter, and that's why I'm sharing it now. I want you to know why I can't be excited about the outcome of the election. I need you to understand my fight, and I need to understand yours. So shut up, and listen! Especially my Christian friends. Just shut up and listen! You don't like the violent protests? Neither do I, but they aren't acting out of selfish desires for government handouts. They have their reasons. They have their stories. Their actions may be wrong, but their fight may not be. What if we gave them our ear? What if we reached out in love? What if we listened to their stories? What if we understood their fight? Maybe you can't condone their fight, but if you understand their motives, it could change your perspective. It would change my perspective.

Of all the images I have seen, the one that stuck in my brain, the one I've been unable to shake, was protesters marching with a flag that was torn in two, the two halves blowing wildly in different directions. How symbolic. Our nation is torn in two, and it won't be mended by a president. The only hope of mending it is God's people reaching out with a divine love that can look past our own feelings and differences and say 'Tell me your story!'.

The real truth is that in four years we have to do this all again. Four years will fly by, but the wounds we inflict on each other through all of this could last much, much longer. God chose love. He chose love to the point that Jesus allowed Himself to be beaten and nailed to a cross, and hung on display, because despite our sin and our arrogance and our hatred, He loved us enough to let His blood be shed for us. He knew we had a story. He knew our rage came from a place of brokenness. He didn't march on Rome to inflict His will in a display of power. He walked softly and humbly to His death, because His love was greater than any other force. His love was the only way to save us. His love is still the only way to save us. His love is still the only thing that matters. The more we lock our doors, batten down the hatches and fight for our own rights, the more we miss the point. They matter too. They mattered enough for Him to die on a cross to save them. So please, hear their stories! Find the place of brokenness in their hearts and speak life to it. Love them, as He loved us!