“Don’t judge me by my president.”
These are the words that I muttered under my breath this morning. A broken sentiment to match my melancholy mood. He saddened me, my Commander in Chief, but more than his actions made me wince, was the opinion of his opposition that mattered to me. Most of the time it shouldn’t, but in this instance it did. It had to. We were coming to a point where opinion meant more than meets the eye.
I voted for Donald Trump. God, help me, I did. Southern-bred and Bible-belt brought up, our state ran red, of course it did, but I didn’t vote strictly on party lines. I took a good look at the candidates before me, and I prayed. Oh, Lord, I prayed.
I had felt a whole bunch like Lot. “But what if just ten righteous remain? Will you save us?”
See, I voted the way a lot of Christians voted. To cop the old reliable, “I voted for the lesser of two evils,” stood absolutely true. I mean, at the time I shook my head at both of the main candidates before me. I didn’t want either of them leading my country, the country I had fought and served for during and after 9/11. But when held in front of me, on the scales of awful and more awful, I let life guide me. I sided with the opponent who supported sanctity of life. I went with the man who professed himself as a Christian. Although, at the time, my most commonly uttered phrase was, “well, he certainly doesn’t Christian like I Christian.”
If I only knew. Initially there was excitement, pride even, over my presidential chose being sworn into office. I rolled my eyes at the whiners (I’m just being honest, here), and I wanted to yell from the rooftops, “suck it up!!”
But I didn’t. Do you know why? No, it’s not because I’m perfect, and it’s not because I’m the opposite either. I’m not a two-faced, gossiper, or a hypocrite even. I don’t smile sweetly from the choir while whispering scandalous here-say when you walk away. What I mean is, I had some thoughts. I had some fleshly, unkind thoughts. Hurtful things had been thrown around about my “religion,” and that would make anyone’s quills bristle. People who don’t know any better can be downright mean, but I’ve learned that sticks and stones will break my bones, but words also hurt us. I learned that to be a Christian meant I must somehow be different. I must stand apart. Not on a pedestal, you see, but certainly out of the gutter. So, when insults were hurled my way, I tried to follow the way of Yeshua and turn the other cheek.
I have seen Mr. Trump do a lot of wonderful things for our country since taking office. I’ve seen him boost the economy, defend religious liberty, and support Israel, among other things. One thing I haven’t seen him do, though, is turn the other cheek. Sigh. I get standing firm for what you believe, but he has never stood down.
