A Moment With the Election
Right now, most people are either thinking “we lost!” or “we won!” Or some are thinking, “Maybe we won!” Elections are like that. They trick us into thinking there is losing and winning. They make us think that elections are about winning. And in so doing, we give our peace to the devil.
I have many friends who are upset. It reminds me of when Hillary Clinton lost four years ago. There were pictures of people sobbing, declarations from people that they could not live in the United States another minute. (And though many of them were wealthy enough to live wherever they please, they are still on motherland soil.) They had no peace. Now, many of my friends think they have no peace. They have spent the days since standing in long lines to cast their vote in turmoil. It is dark; it is tragic; it is devastating.
Yesterday was a beautiful day in Indiana. The autumn colors have been spectacular this year. It was over seventy degrees (F). If you crossed the causeway over Eagle Creek reservoir, the water was dotted with white sails of people out with their boats. Though late fall, the trees are still holding on to the red, yellow, gold, green, and brown leaves. If you look, you can see colors of blue and purple beyond that. It is an explosion of color that we have not seen for many autumn seasons. God gave us beauty, peace, and life, yesterday–all of the real things elections are about. And many took it and squandered it. Because we think elections are about winning. My man. The one who won. The one who lost. We stood in our kitchens, full of good food, light, and blessings and felt sorry for ourselves and angry at anyone who would not join us down in the dumps.
Elections are about days like yesterday. The peace it offered. There are people living in refugee camps happier than a lot of Americans. They were threatened. Their children were threatened. And they escaped. They ate yesterday. They found clean water yesterday. They were at peace.
There are many stories in the Bible that are big. Noah’s builds an ark. Elijah brings fire from heaven and confounds the four hundred and fifty prophets of Baal. These are amazing things that children remember easily. But there are little stories also. One of them concerns a woman who builds a room on her roof for the prophet Elisha. When he comes through her village, she feeds him and has a place for him. It occurs to him that he should do something for her. Thinking like we think, he sends Gehazi, his servant, to her. Gehazi asks, “See you have taken all this trouble for us; what is to be done for you? Would you have a word spoken on your behalf to the king or the commander of the army?”
How would we answer that!?! “Oh, yes! Here’s my list!” The woman, instead, answers, “I dwell among my own people.” That is highlighted in blue in my study bible. I was reading along one day, and that hit me with the force of a sucker punch. She was not concerned with the king. She was concerned with her own people. It is why she knew to build a room for the prophet. When he came through, he had no people. She became his people. She gave contentment.
I wondered, once, how refugees could live. They left their homes. They left their communities and jobs. So, I read about it. And I watched a “Point of View” taken by a refugee. And they were not always sad. They could laugh. They let their children go and play. Wherever they were, the bombs had stopped. The future looked brighter than what they experienced. They travelled with others just like them. They knew that each day was about peace.
Listen to this. “I urge that supplications, prayers, intercessions, and thanksgivings be made for all men, for kings and all who are in high positions, that we may lead a quiet and peaceable life, godly and respectful in every way.” That was written by the apostle Paul when Rome was in power and Nero ruled. It opens the second chapter of Paul’s first letter to Timothy. It is how I know that yesterday I had everything an election could offer. Yesterday, I had beauty. Yesterday, I lived among my people. Yesterday, I had peace.
It is a time we call Thanksgiving. It comes after harvest. We can see the food in the fields and know there will be food this year. The seeds grew to seedlings. The seedlings grew to plants. The plants gave us food. We were not hindered by war, hail, locusts, frosts, or bugs. There is food for another year.
All of those people who thought they “lost” four years ago have had four years of days when they could have been at peace. Now, the other side stands in their place. The new officials may go about things very differently. They may require things of us we would rather not face. They may have ways that confuse and confound us. But our supplications, prayers, intercessions and thanksgivings are what are needed. Our anger and hurt and hate and the knot in our stomach are useless.
Not all that many years ago, my sister had drills at school in case the USSR dropped bombs on American schools. I was a member of Junior Civil Defense. You get shrapnel in your eyes, I’m trained to care for you. My high school had a bomb shelter. Civil Defense bomb shelters were all over, marked by the yellow Civil Defense logo. We had enemies. They had nuclear capabilities. It was a threat that never materialized. Had we hidden in our shelters or given up our joy and peace, it would have been for nothing. All of those lovely, peaceful growing up years could have been years of fear and anxiousness. We owe are parents a debt of gratitude that they let us live and breathe and enjoy our days. They knew that we could deal what comes if it comes.
If you have peace, today, rejoice! Take a walk. Call your people. Cross a causeway to look at the boats. Take your lunch to the airport and watch the planes glide on air. Hug your children, your dog, or your cat as they pass you, even if they grimace at being squashed.
Enjoy every day of peace you get. Do not squander it. You are refugees on planet earth, hopefully citizens of heaven. And every day that is true means, clearly, that you are the winner.