The Morning After

I wrote the following on November 9. Now a couple weeks have passed, and some of the immediate anxiety has lifted, but a lot remains. I waited to share this. I wanted to let things settle with in me a bit. Time is a good way to gain some perspective, but even on the morning after, there was perspective to be found.

It’s the morning after the election. The sun still came out. It’s shining right now through the windows on my beautiful, confused eleventh graders. They are taking a test. Life continues. That is grace. And grace will carry us through the months and days ahead, even if we don’t know from whence it comes.

It isn’t hyperbole that people are frightened. They heard the rhetoric; they want to know if their Hispanic or Muslim friend will be taken away. Or if their bullies will have even more power to spew hate. My friend’s twelve year old was frightened to go to school today, worried that everything has changed. One student even believed a Twitter feed talking about the Purge beginning after the election with the permission of the victor.

My eleventh graders have talked about fleeing to Canada.  Of course, they’d have to convince their parents to leave as well, but no matter.  We had a great discussion about how, despite a horrid election process, America is still a great place to live. We can speak out against the establishment and not fear for our lives. I said the greater challenge is for us to stay and contribute to America, even if that contribution is small.  We can be kind and refuse to bully. We can help and stand up for those who are bullied. We can look for our own prejudice and seek to be more accepting and open. We can promote what’s best in American.

Those eleventh graders are part of what is great about America. I have the immense and staggering privilege to contribute to their future. My responsibility isn’t telling them who to vote for or not. My responsibility is to help them learn to think for themselves, to ask questions and not settle for the status quo.

In that I can find some understanding of the victors. They voted the way they did to change the status quo as they see it. I may not agree with their thinking, but I can sympathize with wanting change. Maybe that’s where we can come together. Maybe not. But we can try.

Greater still, how can I radiate my belief in a God whom I believe is in control whether we see or even believe in Him? How can I represent Jesus in this broken world?  How can I draw people to Him rather than chase them away? Again, grace comes to the top. I must be a person of acceptance, unconditional love, grace, mercy, kindness and forgiveness; I have to be like Jesus. If I, who believe God holds the future firmly in His grasp, live in fear of the temporal world, what does that say to those who are searching? I need to reflect hope, but first I have to believe it.

Striving to live as Jesus lived doesn’t require more effort on my behalf; it requires less effort and more dependence on His Holy Spirit to fill and use me. That’s where I get my ability to live like Jesus. So again it’s all about surrendering myself to God and allow Him total access. That’s where the power lies. I just need to tap it.

The sun came up on November 9^th.  I saw it. I received notes and phone calls of encouragement from friends around the world, who live with me in the struggle to be Jesus’ person in a broken world. I felt my frustration and anger, but I also felt peace.

And now several days have past, and that perspective is what holds firm. I feel less angry, more resolved to be whatever it is God wishes me to be in this country, this state, this town, this school and neighborhood. I believe I can make a difference. My God reigns.