A matter receiving great public attention stands before me. Despite my compulsion to join in the conversation, I realize how right both sides of the controversy are and, lacking the words to bring the opposing views together, I fall silent. And, thus, I fail, wholly and completely. — Joey Cope
Politics is all about trade-offs. Compromise. Concessions. Politicians make deals to gain support. Voters, a complex and complicated group, have to decide what is most important, what is their priority, what is their trade-off. Although it’s a serious game, it’s a game.
I can’t look at a news source or open my social media without being drawn into thinking about politics. On social media, I have expressed some of my opinions in ways, that I believe, allowed others to hold on to theirs. I’ve not tried to be persuasive, only thoughtful.
So, having more important things to address at this stage of my life, my last word on politics as I withdraw for a season. Whoever you are, whatever you believe about the candidates, you are simply wrong. Why? Because choosing a candidate in the present age is about trade-offs, at least if you are truly aware of the issues at stake. If you’re honest with yourself, you know your choice is wrong for some reason. Or, more dangerously, if you’ve chosen a candidate and you believe you’ve made no trade-offs, you are more delusional than the candidates themselves. At least they know, deep inside, of the compromises they’ve made.
It’s the whole “putting faith in man” scenario. It’s never worked out perfectly. Choose a candidate. Make it for the reasons you can live with.
Coming face to face with regret has become a daily routine for me. Perhaps it’s because I’ve become more contemplative. Or maybe it’s just because all of those things-I-should-or-shouldn’t-have-done have just reached critical mass and the momentum is simply overpowering. If it’s the latter, I regret that.
I came across this quote and found some comfort there.
In the interest of full disclosure, you should know that I copied it on an envelope yesterday and forgot about it . . . and threw the envelope in recycling. I regret that.
Fortunately, I retrieved it and I have it. Reading through it again, I am impressed with its wisdom and would really like to know who said it. But, a quick search online yielded nothing. So, for now, this source of wisdom is simply unknown. I regret that.
I had dinner with an old friend this week and discovered things that I wish I had known — of difficulties and triumphs in his life. And a rediscovery of why he was a friend and has stayed a friend, though distant, all these years. In those discoveries, I realized I had missed some truly great things. I regret that.
I sat with two more recent friends who are going through something terrifying. Talked and texted with two more whose marriages are suffering. Saw pictures that reminded me of things I wished I could do. Remembered moments that I failed. Realized that it will be hard to make amends. I regret all of that.
We face our regrets most often with statements beginning, “I wish . . .” Yet, I know that I was called to have more than regrets. I am empowered to do more than wish. For just like the rest of you, I was given a new day and a chance to do better. I can never fully repair all the things I have broken nor accomplish all the things that were possible. But in this new day, I can make a better decision, have a longer conversation, find more patience within me, seek moments for peace and reconciliation.
And even though I most likely will mess up, I have no regrets for the new days ahead.
Regret is simply a teacher, the lesson learned a treasure.
Please end the fear. Talk to people. All people. Pray for people. All people. Perhaps while we are praying, God will provide a holy space where we can make better decisions, choose better words, take a different course of action.
I received an email a few days back from an acquaintance. It was a forward, of course, of a message that had gone out to “reassure evangelical Christians” about recent endorsements from well-known figures within our faith community for Donald Trump. The theme, repeated over and over again, was that God is opening the door for us to hire a thug.
No, the word “thug” was never used. That would be too startling and upsetting. No, this is a direct quote:
Maybe God is trying to tell us something important- that now is not the time for a “nice Christian guy” or a “gentleman” or a typical Republican powder puff. Maybe now is the time for a natural born killer, a ruthless fighter, a warrior.
And some of you who are reading this might agree. That’s your choice.
I’ve heard all of the arguments in favor of the position taken in this recent email, including those “supported” by the Bible. I find it disquieting that none of that comes within the perspective of John 3:16.
I suppose all I’m saying here is that we live in a country where we have a lot of freedom, including that of voting for anyone we choose. Exercise that freedom.
I would also ask that you exercise that freedom in what you communicate. Please don’t dress up a thug in his Sunday suit and try to pass him off as God’s answer. Don’t pretend he’s representing our values when every other statement he makes screams otherwise.
Your choice this election year is a challenge. Vote. Support whichever candidate you believe will be the best President. But don’t use God as an excuse for your choices.