Leading up
to the presidential election I could barely turn on the news, look at Facebook,
Twitter or any of the news outlets on the internet, because it felt like a
barrage of hate, finger pointing, he said – she said, I’m right your wrong messages.
When I went to the polls on Election Day I didn’t know who to vote for. As I
looked down at my ballot with my pen in hand I was dizzy with confusion,
sadness and uncertainty. It was the first time since I was able to vote that I
didn’t know who to vote for. My mind, my senses, my gut and my heart were all
telling me different things. I finally listened to my gut and so I filled in
the empty circle next to the candidate who I felt wasn’t necessarily the best,
but would be better than the others. I woke up the next morning relieved that
the election was over because I knew that at least for now the hate, finger
pointing, he said – she said, I’m right your wrong messages would finally be
over and I could once again peruse Facebook, Twitter and watch the news without
any sense of dread.
And all was pretty
good, until Inauguration Day when all hell broke loose. Once again I was faced
with hate filled words, finger pointing, they said – we said, their wrong we’re
right messages flying across the screens of my T.V., computer, iPhone and iPad.
I wanted to hide, fly faraway to a deserted island or to a mountain cabin where
there was no reception for a T.V. or social media. And it wasn’t just coming
from news anchors, talk show hosts or politicians; it was neighbor against
neighbor, brother against brother, sister against sister. On Facebook friends
were unfriending friends, family members unfollowing family members, arguments
and voices raised in streets and communities across our nation. Was this the
same country who just a few short years ago found us in the depths of grief as
towers fell, planes crashed and lives were lost? Each day across our television
screens we heard the names, saw their pictures and heard their stories of life,
work and courage. In our grief we didn’t lash out or turn away, we came
together and offered comfort, hope and love. We offered financial assistance,
quilts and prayer shawls. People stood in lines to give blood and it didn’t
matter who it went to we knew we needed to do it. We were a nation working
together for the same cause, unity.
Today the
word unity feels so foreign. We are not a unified nation but a nation turned
against itself. And I understand the differences of opinions. I understand the
differences in peoples wants and needs. I understand people feeling fear,
because it is in the unknown where fear enters. The unknown causes our senses
to be on high alert. Every new story, every misconstrued word or action, every
new policy, every new declaration causes fear to grow stronger and we no longer
have the ability to decipher what is real or not. We get two or more opinions
from each news program or talk show we watch. No one can come to an agreement
because we want to be right. We are a society that loves to point out everyone’s
indiscretions, faults and failures. We love to say, “See, I told you so.” When
our pride and need of wanting to be right outweighs compassion and
understanding, unity is nothing more than a word found in the dictionary. The
meaning of unity is useless until we take action.
As I watched
the marches and protests erupt the day of and after the inauguration and over the last few days, I heard the voices and read the signs. At times I was
in agreement and understanding and at other times I was upset and mortified.
I’m not against marches and protests because I know that when they are done
responsibly and with the utmost care things can be changed. People’s lives can
be made better, safer and their futures brighter. But as I watched those
protesting and marching in Washington DC and other cities across our country I
asked myself these questions, “What if each person who was marching right now,
was back in their own community using their time and money they spent to go
march and instead were using it to help those who are oppressed, lonely,
hungry, homeless, abused or set aside? What would our county look like if each
citizen, neighborhood and community, reached out to help those who were in need
by giving of their time, resources, talents and money, instead of spending
their time and money to march or protest?”
Instead of
carrying a sign what if we carried a meal to the house down the street where
the lonely widow or widower lives or to the frazzled new parents who haven’t
been able to sleep because of a colicky baby or to the family whose mother is
battling cancer? Or maybe instead of carrying a sign we carried a hammer or
screwdriver and helped build a home? Or maybe we picked up a pen and wrote our
local, state and national leaders? Instead of standing outdoors listening to
celebrities what if we sat down and listened to the grief stricken neighbor,
veteran, single parent or the person who is of a different race, religion or
country? Or maybe we went to the local nursing home and offered companionship
to a resident? Instead of marching down the street what if we marched over to the
school and helped a child learn how to read or to be a mentor to a troubled
teen? Instead of wearing funny hats what if we gave our extra hats, coats and
gloves to the homeless to help keep them warm?
Instead of purchasing a meal
after the march, what if we worked at the local soup kitchen, church community
meal or gave food to the food pantry? Instead of staying at a hotel, what if we
volunteered to work at a homeless shelter or group home? Instead of using our
money for gas to travel to the protest, what if we gave that money to a local
or international mission project?
What if we
loved our neighbor as much as we love ourselves? What if we listened more and
talked less? What if we gave more and received less? What if we reached out
expecting nothing in return?
What would
our world look like, if we put our differences aside, decided to take action,
worked together and reached out and took care of our neighbors? I believe it
would be a world with hearts filled with compassion, freedom, love and unity.
Blessings,
Jill
