Handling When Reality Hits

No sooner than I’d  hit “publish” on yesterday’s post did I wonder, “Am I going to regret this?”

Over the last few months I found myself tossed over waves of worry, overwhelmingly anxious about our election choices. Apparently, like others, I was not particularly excited about either option. However, with a resigned sigh I acknowledged that regardless of my preferences, one would become the next president. As we approached Election Day I determined that I would pray, vote and hope for the best.

I desperately wanted to be optimistic, in spite of my pessimistic/realistic bent.

I strived to be faith-filled, trusting God with what seemed to be an impossible situation.

When I typed at the end of that post that regardless of the outcome, “And God still holds it all in His hands.” I believed it.

Until I was faced with reality. Reality punched me the chest and knocked the wind (and faith) out of me. Reality informed me that when faced with a president-elect who has historically said offensive things about women and minorities, and has questionable practices that have negatively affected many over many years (I won’t detail them because they have been discussed ad nauseam), I would panic.

I thought of the tweet from a head of the KKK who bragged that “they” helped this happen. And my mind raced back to stories of my grandparents, one of whom fled Mississippi with his father in the dead of night, leaving behind all he knew to start a new life. His crime? His father had done the unforgivable, deemed deserving of death – he disagreed with a white man and challenged him. Would we go back to this?

I pondered threats of walls and mass deportations and thought of the people I met over the years from different countries. Some documented, others were not. I grieved as I wondered what would become of families if they were severed. What would a documented mother do if her undocumented husband and supporter were forced to return to his country. How would you explain to devastated children that grandfather has to return to a country that is no longer really his own after years of working to establish a home for his family here. How do you tell them how heart-broken he was that he never had the extra money or time to complete the immigration process himself after 2 “immigration lawyers” stole his hard-earned money all those years ago. Is this what will come to?

Will we round up people we deem to be threats in internment camps? Concentration camps?

“And God still holds it all in His hands”

Reality whispered loudly in my ear “You don’t believe what you wrote.”

My heart broke.

I’ve wrestled with this all day.

Either I am going to choose to believe that God is in control…or not. He is, and where I stand on the issue does not affect His sovereignty.

However, to not believe means many more anxious days and sleepless nights. More tossing. It would mean a lack of peace and ushering in stagnation that is birthed from fear. It would mean misery as I fret over something I have no control over anyway.

To believe means to trust that He has this and I can have peace, realizing that the wheels are already in motion and worrying will not stop this train. What will be, will be.

To believe means I will constantly pray when I feel anxious (which may be a lot in these next few days), asking God for a myriad of things. Because if I’m praying, I’m not worrying.

To believe means I need to embrace the reality that I am not the Holy Spirit. I need to stop trying to inform every.single.person who does not understand why this is hard for half the country. I can speak truth. And will. But will seek wisdom on how, if and when to engage. The constant reading and commenting is a vicious cycle that leaves me emotionally spinning at the end of the day, with the other person still firmly rooted. Exercise in futility. “Casting pearls before swine.”

To believe means that I need to understand that there will be times that I will be like the father in Mark 9:24 who after major disappointment, begged Jesus, if he could, to heal his son. Crying out, “I believe; help my unbelief!”

Today. The sun did shine. My heart did break. And God is still in control.

If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask God, who gives generously to all without reproach, and it will be given him. 

But let him ask in faith, with no doubting, for the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea that is driven and tossed by the wind. 

For that person must not suppose that he will receive anything from the Lord; 

he is a double-minded man, unstable in all his ways.

James 1:5-8