Foolish Optimist
Wow, what a wild ride the last 4 years have been (politically speaking)… and still are. Amid the constant barrage of insanity, we, our closest friends, and probably most of America have turned rather cynical and hopeless at times. For some, this increasingly threatens to become a permanent way of being.
Desperate to make some sort of positive headway and prove that you can, in fact, bridge the growing divide of American politics, I sought insight from both “sides” found in the perspectives of my ultra-conservative family and ultra-liberal friends. As it turns out, they do have one point in common: a belief that things are getting entirely out of hand and that their side has all the answers to fix it.
Intensely fed up with this back-and-forth, “either/or” game, I considered many alternative approaches to the most recent presidential election. These ranged from voting for a third party to abstaining from voting entirely. None felt quite right. Less concerned with whether or not my vote really mattered, my primary objective was to finish out 2020 feeling that I had acted in accordance with my conscience and beliefs; with Truth, not “as I see it,” but in the larger sense — the Truth that stands firm in the eternal, compassionate work of God, unchanging amid the social and political storms that ebb and flow ad nauseum.
The problem was, I couldn’t find any semblance of clarity. Despite feverish prayers, digging into the Word, and talking it out with trusted life companions, the “right” decision remained entirely obscured. When my mail-in ballot arrived, all I felt in my spiritual inner sanctum was a sense that I needed to wait… that, perhaps, I didn’t yet have all the necessary information to make a choice that seemed so life-or-death. Still, that big white envelope taunted me from its quiet place on our kitchen counter. Time is running out. You may wait too long and miss the deadline.
Finally, one evening in mid-October, the pressure got to me. Tired of thinking about it, I ripped open the envelope, sat myself down on the couch with a black pen and my smartphone, and commenced my civic duty. In a joyless, methodical fashion, I Google-searched every candidate and made my choices. To the best of my ability, I judged the performance of the person behind each name based on the (sometimes sparse) information available via the Internet. When it was over, I sealed and signed my ballot, and walked it out to our mailbox across the street.
Frustrated, I discovered no immediate sense of peace or relief. Instead, I still felt uncertain, disappointed, and not more than a little bitter about it. What the fuck. Imagine my utter dejection when, not a week later, a documentary film exposed me to a viewpoint that likely would have changed one or more of my voting choices. Well, shit. Immediately, God’s words rang in my ears: Trust in the Lord, rather than leaning on your own understanding (Prov 3)… There is so much I can’t understand, as a finite human with a limited scope of experience. I don’t know the future. I can’t even stop myself from buckling under stress and filling out my mail-in ballot, despite the subtle nudgings of my soul to pause.
Yet, I remain optimistic. Hopeful. Joyful, even. Expectant. Not because of the things this candidate will do, or that candidate would have done. Not because of the good people on this side or that who refuse to stop fighting for “our” version of a better future. But because there is a third option, a better way, a higher kingdom than the one we see every day. Its King offers us a road out of the binary party system. Here, we can breathe again. Here, we find lasting peace. Here, we have hope that can’t be destroyed by any candidate.
Honestly, I’m not 100% satisfied with my choices in this year’s election. Hell, I’m not satisfied with my choices, period. When left to my own devices, it seems I’m apt to flail, whine, and take the easy way out most of the time. Do I still worry that I might make the wrong decision and ruin the rest of my life / my kids’ lives / the world? Sure. That’s being human.
But that fear doesn’t cripple me anymore. Because I know, beyond a doubt, that no matter what decisions I make or don’t make, however I may royally screw up and shit the bed, my Redeemer lives. His love is powerful and active, right this second. His ways are above and beyond our wildest imaginations and won’t be confined to my little “box” of expectations. He brings peace, not confusion (I Cor 14). He comes to rescue, not to judge (John 12).
This message is foolishness to those who don’t believe (I Cor 1). To me, it is the power of the cross and every reason to remain joyfully, wholly optimistic.
