I haven’t blogged for weeks. I’ve been busy with extended family get-togethers, coaching and attending post-season fall sports and doing life with four teenagers, my hard-working hubby, our dog, gecko and three hermit crabs (I have nothing to do with ensuring the latter four creatures exist, but they help make the point that our house is zoo-like). But none of these excuses are the main reason I haven’t blogged lately. The main reason is November 8th.
I have many thoughts and opinions about this election I would like to share, but I can’t… or haven’t. I haven’t been able to blog because I don’t want to make waves. I have friends, family members and acquaintances who aren’t voting for who I voted for last Tuesday. I love these people and do not want to offend or upset any of them. I also get that the options are sickening, either way. Anyway, who I voted for, what I think and who others vote is not my business and no one cares who an Asian hillbilly voted for in 2016.
Except for One person.
When I found out about an inner-city orphan two years ago, I began to pray and ask God what He wanted me to do. I knew I didn’t have time for anything else in my already full life. I knew I didn’t want to bring a troubled teenage boy anywhere near my children. I knew many logical, reasonable and valid points to get out of helping the child, but I one of the first verses I read after praying (I’m learning the Bible is a great place to look for answers to questions I’m praying about), was Proverbs 24:11 – 12: “Rescue those being led away to death; hold back those staggering toward slaughter. If you say, “But we know nothing about this,” does not he who weighs the heart perceive it?”
In all honestly, I wished for almost two years I hadn’t read about our inner-city friend. I also wish I didn’t know about abortions, homeless people and poverty. But at the end of the day, at the end of this life I will give an account. I will not be able to say I didn’t know about Polo or about innocent babies being murdered every day. I will not be able to stand before God and tell him I didn’t think my vote would matter, that I was worried I would offend others or I didn’t think praying and fasting would make a difference Tuesday, so I didn’t even try.
If, like me, you call yourself a Christ-follower, then follow. As the great theologian Ricky Ricardo once said, “Lucy, you got some splaining’ to do.” I don’t want to give an account for my vote (or failure to vote), my words or times I have failed to love, but that’s following. But following also means experiencing God’s peace when we go where He leads. Because regardless of what happens Tuesday, we will still follow the same King on Wednesday.