I weep for my country.
America was never perfect, and it never will be. But things keep getting worse, and so many of my fellow Americans seem to want to inflict suffering and sorrow on the vulnerable. What is behind this hatred? Is it simply a thirst for power and control? I can’t understand it, and I probably never will.
I vacillate between fear, dread, rage, and depression. Mostly, I feel helpless. Since 2016 when Trump was elected, it seems as though a snowball effect has been gathering steam, aiming to wipe away any chance at a multicultural democracy. I want to say love is enough, but perhaps I’m wrong. Too many people out there want to impose their will on us. It’s a dark time.
America is a country that was born out of slavery, genocide, and injustice. We’ve always had lofty ideals but never lived up to them. But at least we had those ideas, and we seemed to strive for them. Unfortunately, this doesn’t seem to be the case anymore. The Republican party no longer minces words and has no problem giving away their game plan of white supremacy and domination.
Amongst all this hatred, I wonder where God is. Toxic Christianity is at the center and the driving force behind all this terrible change. They want to install something like a fascist Christian theocracy. I used to think statements like this were outlandish and hysterical, but it’s time to call it like it is.
The idea of modernity, science, and progress scares them. I can’t understand why. Why is it wrong to love people based on who they are alone? Why is it wrong to strive for equality? Why do they see some people as second-class citizens?
I don’t know what’s coming next. But a large part of me feels like I have to do anything to stop this if only to not feel so helpless. Rachel and I went to a pro-choice rally on Saturday night, and the feeling of communal love cleansed my spirit. Did it take back what’s happening? Not necessarily. But it made me feel like I wasn’t alone and that there are still people who care.
I think about God in this a lot. I was taught in recovery to believe, “God’s will, not mine, be done.” So, is all of this God’s will? Was it his will that school children be gunned down in Texas? Is it his will that pregnancy is now criminalized?
I think it may almost be easier to be an atheist at this point. Yet, I cling to my faith like a life raft. I have a bad temper and am a pessimist, and my belief in a loving God softens my heart when it gets too hard. And, God knows, my heart has felt heavy and heavier these past several years.
Anger is like a flame
It is Monday morning, and the work week has started. It feels almost ridiculous to write about real estate for my job right now while all this is happening. I think that if the coup is ever completed, I’ll be working when it happens.
I talk to my Higher Power about these things, and sometimes I get answers. The answer is mostly to keep hatred out of my heart, as tempting as it sometimes is to feel that way. The other side wants us outraged, shocked, and helpless. But anger is like a flame; if it burns too hot, it will consume me.
So, I go back to work on Monday, and I quietly pray to myself. If there is a God, maybe she can console us during this. And if everything falls apart, we will have to live on somehow, some way, and find peace in whatever ways we can.