What I Learned From Not Watching the Debates

I didn't watch the debate last night or the one before it.  In fact, I didn't watch the VP debate either.  (Well, technically I watched 9 minutes of that one, but I don't think that really counts. ) Instead, I watched Acts of Valor, Downton Abbey, and, Shadowlands, respectively.  Before you condemn me as a card carrying member of the apathetic set, let me assure you that I read the transcripts the next day and thoroughly examined my facebook and twitter account for all pertinent information. :)  What did I learn? AMERICA IS AWESOME.  Seriously.  I know there are lots of things that are very, very, very imperfect and even downright wrong about our country, but, on the whole, this entire election process shows that we've still got it.

When the band of patriots launched our revolution in 1776, the idea of a republic by the people and for the people wasn't a new one, necessarily, but it sure wasn't a popular one.  Not to put too sentimental a face on it, but our forefathers, facing horrible odds, did a bang up job creating a government that would attempt to balance man's natural tendencies toward greed, power and violence and create an atmosphere of peaceful political discourse.  (side note: I think the inclusion of this line in the Declaration of Independence is genius: that whenever any form of government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the right of the people to alter or abolish it, and to institute new governement, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their safety and happiness.  It effectively allows for revolution, therefore taking it off the table.  Somehow, when something is legal its a lot less appealing.  Nice reverse psychology TJ! )  Anyway... despite the name calling and ugly, negative campaign ads, our process is most definitely a peaceful one.  Our debates, while testy and heated, don't result in bloodshed.  You can publish, tweet, FB, or yell from the rooftops how horrid you think our president or wanna be president is, and no one will come to take you away.  Want to stand outside the Supreme Court or the White House and protest for months on end? Go for it. Feel like making angry phone calls or sending disgruntled letters wishing a pox on Congress and all their household. Knock yourself out. (Just don't send any literal pox.) In fact, wallowing in our freedom and mocking our elected, or possibly elected officials, has become an art form and, in true American style, a big business.

Are there parts of our system that need tweaking? (Read: Electoral College.) Absolutely. The beautiful thing is we can do it without fear of retribution, intimidation, or imprisonment.  As Mr. Jefferson stated, its our right to alter the system. We are the system. That is a beautiful, beautiful thing.

This January, when the president, whoever he may be, is sworn in on the steps of the Capitol, a united group of Americans (some happier than others) will stand peacefully behind and in front of him as a testament to over 200 years of this noble experiment.  I, for one, will be watching.

It Was Necessary

I can count the number of times I've heard the literal voice of God on two, maybe, three fingers, but that morning was most definitely one of them.  Micah was asleep in his car seat and in an effort to keep him that way, I drove over to the cemetery near the preschool.  Elizabeth had been gone two years, but due to the proximity to the school, it wasn't uncommon for me to stop by for a quiet moment or two with my baby girl.  I quietly wondered around the infant plots for a few minutes and got back in the van. As I drove out of the cemetery, the still small voice spoke loudly:

It was necessary.

This is going to sound odd, crazy and slightly cold even, but I've often thought of Elizabeth not just as our only daughter but also as a very significant chapter in our lives. An it, as it were.  I knew when God spoke that morning he wasn't specifically referring to her, but to the chapter of her, the experience of her.  Everything, from the moment of her conception, to her diagnosis, to her birth, was necessary.


It was necessary to feel paralyzing fear and helplessness, so that I could know Who my strength and help come from.

"He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the LORD, 'He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.'" -Psalm 91:1

 It was necessary to know abject loneliness, so that I could feel the constancy of His companionship.

"Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me."  -Psalm 23:4

It was necessary to wallow in hopelessness, so that I could dwell in the hope that is only from Him.

"May your unfailing love rest upon us, O LORD, even as we put our hope in you." -Psalm 33:22

It was necessary to see the darkness creep in and surround me, so that His light could break through.

"...even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you." -Psalm 139:12

It was necessary to cry out for mercy, so that I could hear His voice and know my redemption.

"Praise be to the LORD, to God our Savior, who daily bears our burdens.  Our God is a God who saves; from the Sovereign LORD comes escape from death."  -Psalm 68:19-20

It was necessary to express despair, grief, hurt, anger with my whole being, so that I could sing of His comfort, His grace, His peace, and His joy with my whole soul.

"But as for me, I will always have hope; I will praise you more and more. My mouth will tell of your righteousness, of your salvation all day long, though I know not its measure.  I will come and proclaim your mighty acts, O Sovereign LORD; I will proclaim your righteousness, yours alone." -Psalm 71:14-16

All of it was necessary.  Did I like it? No.  Do I "count it all joy?" Not yet. Did it suck? You bet. But was it necessary? Absolutely. During the two weeks in between the initial sonogram and the amnio results, I was talking to a friend of mine about how I was begging God for positive results. Without skipping a beat, she told me that only during the awful times in her life did she really learn the most and maybe that's what God had in store for me.  That wasn't what I wanted to hear, but it was exactly what I needed to hear, and exactly what happened.  Only through that kind of suffering could I have possibly drawn that close to my Sustainer, could I have learned lessons so life altering, and could I have changed so much.  James says, "you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything." Five years later, I am lacking less, but I know that God continues to chip away at those areas that need the most work, sometimes with a chisel and sometimes with dynamite, but all of it necessary.

*Happy 5th Birthday, Elizabeth Tanner Henry!*