Another day set aside to work on what I will say to a group of women who have graciously invited me to share my thoughts and humor (and dare I say, wisdom...probably not) and here I sit blogging instead, but I need to write to get some things off my mind and heart and then I will be free to focus. (Ladies of FFBC, I promise I will say more than "Jesus loves you!" although in reality that would be enough.)
I have been so encouraged over the last 36 hours. Not because my candidate won, because I didn't vote for him, and not because she lost, even though I wasn't with her either.
(And I didn't write in my own name, though I was tempted. This would be my platform: Coffee, drunk while still warm, uninterrupted bathroom time, and salted caramel chocolate for breakfast - this exact kind. Get some. And get me some more. And excuse the poor photo quality. Ain't nobody got time to edit pictures because as I established I'm not supposed to be blogging!)
And I also wasn't encouraged because of any great hope I have for things getting repealed or new things being passed, or things being left as they are, or new justices, or anything government related at all.
Because who knows? I don't have a crystal ball.
The thing I do know is that at the end Jesus comes back, and I get to go with Him to a wedding feast.
But even that, while unbelievably encouraging, and really unfathomable, isn't what has me so encouraged about the last 36 hours.
For the first time in my life, I have friends, actual friends, not acquaintances, who don't look like I do, or always think like I do, or throw birthday parties like I do. Some of them could be considered elderly (although I heard 80 is the new 20) and some are babes to me. Some I can barely understand and I know they don't understand my loud southern voice. We don't have the same language, but I adore them, and I'm pretty sure they like me. They are my friends.
I was a part of a group text on election night. Six of us were texting, fingers flying, being continually floored by the history playing out before our eyes, and within that group of six at least three different candidates were represented.
I was with a lot of these people yesterday, in the brutiful school our darlings attend and at Bible study in our church home. I hugged them. I was teary with them. We discussed amounts of wine consumed the night before and how much coffee we needed to get through the day. We squeezed hands and exchanged meaningful glances.
And at the end of a day where my path crossed the path of so many different lives and cultures and ended with tucking three freshly washed, delicious smelling girls into bed, reading the next chapter from Alice in Wonderland, and then going to find my husband, who was reading an actual book, this is the thought I had:
We are with each other.
We are not with any one candidate, or any one belief system, or even one theology. We think differently. But we are with each other. We are doing this life together.
I was so proud of all of us.
And one day, we will all be with Jesus.
And until that day, Grace.