It has been a very tense and difficult week. I’m watching the social media world explode with accusations, cruel words of ridicule, and defiant claims. I don’t know about you, but I’m grieving. I’m grieving because no matter the outcome of this election, we remain a deeply divided country. I think we’re all grieving in some way, whether we like the direction the election is going or not.
I read a post recently from someone calling for civility and stating, “This isn’t who we are!” My grief is that “this,” whatever “this” is that we’re witnessing, is, in fact, who we are and who we have been. It may have been just under the surface and saved for only certain company, but these divisions have been with us for a long time.
I grieve for people who feel they are losing their country. I grieve for people who feel betrayed by a political party or politician they no longer recognize. I grieve for people who are living in fear of what the future may hold.
But my grief and my fears are met by a strong belief that love prevails. It takes time (in the case of our BIPOC — Black, Indigenous, and People of Color — neighbors and friends, more than 400 years), but love prevails. In some ways, the undertones of racist systems and cultural norms have been revealed in the light of God for all of us to see. My grief is met by a savior who fought for the dignity and worth of all God’s people, regardless of socio-economic, political, or physical status or state of being. He fought or the underdogs, the forgotten ones, the marginalized, the untouchables; that their voices may not be silenced, that they may be heard in the hearts of the privileged and powerful. This savior was willing to put his own life on the line for the sake of these “little ones” of God’s realm.
So I walk into the coming days and months wanting to lean more into my faith than my fears so that my grief may be healed or at least soothed and we can all get to work. I want to lean into the hope God has given us in Jesus, who brought people together across cultural and ideological lines to imagine a better future for everyone. I want to lean into the love this savior had for God’s children that made him willing to die for the little ones. I want to lean into the same love this savior had for the powerful, who were also victims of the very systems of injustice they so desperately defend. He was willing to die for them, too, in the cause for love.
The election will be what it will be. I have to stop stressing about it. It’s done. I can’t control the numbers of ballots that have already been cast. I can control how I choose to respond — with love, compassion, and a renewed commitment to the cause of love, inclusion, and compassionate justice.