Thursday, September 29, 2016
Ladies and Gentlemen . . .
Allow me to let you in on something:
Whether you vote for Trump or Clinton, the future of America is not at stake. Really. Some of my Hillary-supporter friends are scared to death that we are about to vote in Hitler. Some of my Trump-supporter friends are scared to death we are about to vote in Stalin.
To my friends who are Hillary Supporters:
Have you lost your mind?
Statistically, most of you are supporting her because you think Trump is Hitler. Have you forgotten that our founders wisely introduced the separation of powers? That means that whoever the president is, they are not driving the country. They are sitting in the front seat, yes, but they don't control the gas pedal (Congress) and they don't have control of the steering wheel (Supreme Court). So no madman that was slick enough to win the presidency could do any lasting damage.
And the Hitler thing. Let me get my bull horn:
Donald Trump is not very smart.
Hitler was a voracious reader - devouring about a book every day. He had a weird but studied fascination with history. He wrote a 900 page autobiography and had an obsession with the occult. His evil was studied.
On the other hand . . .
Trump doesn't read. He even said so much. He makes decisions "with very little knowledge other than the knowledge I had." (1) His intellectual accomplishments include sparring verbally with Rosie O'Donnell and fat-shaming a beauty pageant winner. He is a purveyor of ignorance, not evil.
To quote Andy Stanley: "stop scaring the kids . . ." in America we have impeachment.
So vote for Hillary but stop thinking we are all doomed unless we do. It's nonsense.
To my friends who are Trump Supporters:
Have you lost your faith?
Statistically, you support Trump because you are afraid of Hillary. More specifically you are scared that Hillary will stack the Supreme Court with Godless Justices who can't wait to turn this country into an atheistic den of sin.
Deep breath, people. The future of the country is not at stake.
Think about what you are saying. You are saying that God is crossing His fingers that you vote for the right person so America can continue to exist. My goodness - get over yourself and stop being such a jellyfish on this subject.
Since when does our faith and the future of our country come from a voting booth? Have you even heard of the idea of sovereignty?
Even better question:
Since when does God's will become contingent on voting for an ill-tempered, un-studied, spiritually disinterested, self-absorbed man? Yes, I know that describes most presidents, but seriously - when has God wrung His hands hoping that His man wins? Is God really that small that he is depending on your vote?
And since when have believers become so weak?
Make the right decision regardless of the consequences. If you think Trump is a great leader then vote for him. End of story. If you don't, stop whining about what might happen as if you are in control of it with your vote. You're not.
You are not in control of the future of the Supreme Court. That is God's business. Your job is to do the right thing. And the last time I checked, nothing good in my life happened when I partnered with someone who was ill-tempered and self-absorbed.
And even if we turned into a Godless state over the next four years, it seems to me that Christianity thrives the best when we are persecuted. Shortly after Jesus' death it was a crime to follow Jesus and it went from dozens to thousands in a single day. Best growth strategy for the church we have ever seen. Why are we so scared of something so insignificant. Where is your faith? Do the right thing. Make the right choice without respect to contingencies. Enough with these memes and articles that tell us to compromise so that we can manipulate the future.
So go right now and grab someone who falls into these camps. Take them by the shoulders and shake them. Tell them, "do what you think is right and stop worrying about the consequences!"
It's called being true to yourself.
Wednesday, September 21, 2016
A moment in time . . .
My daughter's name is Kylie. At 11 years old she is all legs, laughter, hugs and constant activity. One moment she is at the dinner table and in the next moment she is dancing in the family room. Her room is never clean and her brain is in a constant state of activity. It's a glorious mess.
Spending a day together at the shore, we rode bikes on the boardwalk in the morning. After some lunch at the house we went to the beach. We rented a paddle board. For dinner we ate hoagies on the beach.
Back at the house as evening crept in, I did my crossword on the porch as she took a short nap. Not down for long, she leaned opened the door to the porch and asked me if I wanted to play diner.
I knew we should have been leaving because we still had ride tickets to spend on the boardwalk. But how could I resist playing diner on such a special day - just my daughter and I? She came out in an apron and put a menu she had just created in front of me. I pretended to be a very discriminating patron of a very fancy restaurant. She smiled at my effort and responded in kind. We played these parts for the next ten minutes. Then we switched roles. I was the waiter and she was the lady ordering the finest fare.
I loved it and I hated it.
I loved how we were completely ensconced in enjoying this moment. It wasn't 'playing.' We were waiters, we were the elite enjoying Foie Gras and the finest Italian Sorbetto. I loved how she trusted me to play these parts with her and join her in this make believe.
I hated how as the sun was setting, so too were these moments with her. I hated the realization that this could be the last time we would do this and really mean it. I wanted her to stay this young forever.
Now, I really don't want her to be young forever. Imagining her at thirty years old asking me to play diner is weird. I want her to grow up and enjoy all that life has to offer. But in the growing dusk, I just wanted to stay in this place for a very long time - enjoying this moment.
For all the madness of this age, here was a sincere heart sharing her world with me - and that was a gift I will always treasure.
We left the porch shortly afterward and joined the crowded madness of the boardwalk but it didn't erase the bittersweet dance of tender innocence we shared as the sun went down.