Just Breathe

I write this on the morning of Election Day 2024. Having cast my ballot three weeks ago, I have nothing to do but watch and wait and pray. And just breathe. It's going to be fine.

Mine is not a cavalier attitude regarding politics and the nation. My daddy taught his kids that this voting stuff was serious business. So serious that he considered the timing of the 2012 election while deciding how to deal with liver cancer. Yes, he believed his one vote was that important and he would have accepted treatment to prolong his life, if he believed it would have gotten him to the first Tuesday in November. I truly believe that!

Election nights meant the TV was turned to election coverage, and nothing else. He'd stay up until well after midnight waiting on the returns from out west. Morning - usually coming short hours after he'd gone to bed - found him at the table, reading the paper and either rejoicing or complaining, depending on the outcome. "Gonna be a tough four years," he'd grumble sometimes, and I'd find myself worrying about the future. But, if he was smiling, then I figured everything was going to be alright.

I still remember the first time he heard me cuss. I was in 8th grade, old enough to be interested in the election and also old enough to be truly concerned about the threat, repeated every four years, to move to Australia if the wrong candidate came out on top.

So, I stayed up late with him, but finally sleepiness and the prospect of the school bus drove me to bed. He promised to wake me up and deliver the results before he turned in. (These were in the days before all the legal wrangling that drags out things today).

About three hours later, I was awakened by heavy footsteps climbing the stairs to my room in the attic. "Who won?" I asked, truly believing the fate of the universe hung in the balance.

He drew in a deep, heavy breath, and slowly said, "Well, Son, Carter beat him."

If you know your history, then you just realized that Daddy was supporting Gerald Ford, not Jimmy Carter, our governor from Georgia. Don't worry; my father isn't upset with me for disclosing how he voted. He was more than happy to tell any who wanted to know, as well as a lot who probably didn't.

I was just an 8th grade boy at the time. Daddy, not one given to profanity himself, had never heard me say anything worse than dang, which would get me the evil eye from my mother. I've just been rousted from sleep at about 3 a.m. and my father has delivered the news that the world as we know it is about to end.

My response - "Oh, ____!"

This is a family friendly blog, so I'll let you fill in the blank. Suffice it to say it was way worse than dang and it would have gotten me a lot more than the evil eye, if my mother had heard me. I figured I was about to be snatched from my bed, spanked good, and then we'd start packing for Australia.

Silence. Dead, cold silence. He must have been deciding whether to yank off his belt or go cut a switch. Just silence, and then . . .

"My sentiments exactly, Boy!"

He kissed the top of my head, bid me goodnight, and slowly, sadly tromped back down the wooden steps.

And we never did move to Australia. Which is why I don't have a really cool accent, I guess. But it also teaches an important lesson.

Yes, politics are important, and we should take our civic responsibilities seriously. We also need to have a sense of perspective.

First, remember we're all Americans. More unites us than divides us. Second, our system is designed to prevent wild shifts in any one direction. So, the nation didn't go careening in a ditch when the guy my parents didn't vote for won the election. Nor did it somehow become utopia when our guy pulled it out. For the most part, life went on and . . . WE NEVER MOVED TO AUSTRALIA!

Meaning, my parents knew that this was, no matter who was riding in the long black limousine, the place they wanted to live, work, and raise their family. And it still is today. I'll take my chances as an American, thank you very much.

There's a pastoral side to all this as well. I love America, and I want to see it prosper. I hate the thought of losing freedoms or seeing our nation in decline. It saddens me deeply to even contemplate the demise of this country. But my ultimate trust is not in the United States of America, and it sure as the dickens isn't in the person occupying the White House. No, no, no; ultimately, I'll take my chances not with the nation, the party, or the President, but with Jesus Christ Himself.

The Apostle Paul knew what it was to live in a challenging and difficult world. As a Roman citizen, he enjoyed more rights and freedoms than did the average Jew of his day. He also knew persecution, opposition, and the potential of death because of his fidelity to his faith. His words to the Philippians bear reading on this Election Day . . .

Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, rejoice.

Let our reasonableness be known to everyone.

The Lord is at hand; do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.

And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Philippians 4:4-7, ESV

Rejoice - no matter who wins.

Be reasonable - even if your candidate loses.

Don't be anxious - God is nearby.

Be thankful and pray - blessings surround you.

Live in a sense of peace that comes from God - no matter your circumstances.

Just breathe, and trust God. He's got this and He's got you. That's what I'm telling myself all today and I'll remind myself of it tonight when I sit glued to the TV.

Oh, no matter who wins, I promise to watch my language. And I'm not moving to Australia. God's no more present way over there than He is right here.

Happy Election Day!