Mourning for America

Tuesday night I watched the election results until it was clear that Donald Trump had a really good chance of winning. I was shocked that such an evil man was embraced by millions of Americans. I cried and went to bed hoping the final results would be different. I slept fitfully. I dreamed that there were big hairy tarantulas on the walls of my living room. When we hit one of them, a bunch of smaller spiders came out. Then they got bigger right before our eyes. We searched the house frantically for insecticide and sprayed it liberally all over the place.

In the middle of the night, I got up and checked the election results. I wept again, worrying about my country. I went back to sleep and dreamed that Trump was walking through the streets in a victory march, triumphant. I was angry; this should not have happened. As I struggled for sleep, I remembered a verse I learned as a teenager:

Isaiah 41:10 King James Version (KJV)

Fear thou not; for I am with thee: be not dismayed; for I am thy God: I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness.

I was comforted by these words because they remind me that God is with me.  I believe that my God is in power regardless of who the president is. He will strengthen me as He always has.

But in this  moment, I am dismayed. I had been praying every day that Trump would be defeated, not because I am a fan of Hillary Clinton but because he is a narcissistic demagogue. Hillary was a flawed candidate, certainly not the person I would have chosen if her opponent had been a decent human being. But Trump is not a decent human being. His message is the complete antithesis of the gospel of Jesus Christ.

I will not listen to or respect a leader who is motivated by anger and hatred and by the desire to elevate himself onto the highest public pedestal so that he can continue his spectacle of self-worship. I will keep my eyes on the King of Kings and Lord of Lords.

I feel like a modern-day Jeremiah weeping for my nation. My pastor and other people of faith have tried to reassure me that God is in control. I trust that He is. But that does not minimize my grief. There is a time for lamenting. God understands this. He feels the pain of my grieving heart.

I mourn this outcome and what it says about the hearts of the American people. I mourn the loss of decency in the way that we communicate with each other. I mourn the lack of compassion for immigrants, refugees, blacks, and Muslims. I mourn the lack of respect for women. I mourn the lack of sensitivity towards the disabled.

I feel betrayed by friends I thought I knew. Now I find myself asking (to myself, obviously), who in the hell are you? What kind of person are you? Why does it not bother you that the person who will hold the highest office in this land treats women as objects, worthless unless they are model-perfect? Why does it not bother you that he thinks women are his for the taking because he is a celebrity? Why does it not bother you that he shamelessly mocked a disabled person? Why does it not bother you that he does not respect the religious freedom of Muslims? Why does it not bother you that he threatens the freedom of the press? Why does it not bother you that he threatens to sue anyone who angers him?

I feel let down by other people of faith. I read that over 80% of white Christians voted for the unrepentant man who clearly does not love others as he loves himself, who clearly does not love God with all his being. Yesterday I read a story on the Sojourners website, O My Soul Faint Not, from another Christian woman who is struggling with the thought of how she can go to church knowing that she will be sitting next to people who voted for Trump. I struggle with that too.

“How can I go to church again?” I asked my mom this morning. “How can I sit there, soaking in the Gospel of grace and love, beside people who chose fear and hate over compassion and justice?”

Tomorrow, I am supposed to get together with a group of five women from my church for a Bible Study. I struggle with this too because my faith is vastly different from theirs. I don’t despise President Barack Obama. I don’t believe that Hillary Clinton is a corrupt criminal. I don’t think America should turn its back on Syrian or Latin American refugees. I don’t resent the needy. I don’t fit in and I don’t want to. Because I hear his voice: Love your neighbor as yourself.

It will take some time for me to come to terms with my new reality. As much as I don’t like the election results, it strengthened my resolve. It clarified my purpose. I struggled for years as an introvert to find my voice. Now that I have found it, I know how to use it: to be a light in the darkness, to spread the message of love that my savior taught me.

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