Post by t-bob on Jan 9, 2021 21:13:30 GMT -5
Whew...
This week was a long decade.
Sometimes, it’s staggering how much living we can fit into a single day, in both beautiful and terrible ways; the way 24 hours can expand to contain more eventful, heart-altering moments that seemingly possible in that short span of time. Sometimes that is a gift and other times it is torture. The past four days have been some of the fullest I can remember:
Wednesday morning brought the radiant dawn of wonderful news from Georgia, that Jon Ossof and Reverend Rafael Warnock had flipped the Senate, bringing limitless possibility to the coming presidency. We exhaled in gratitude. Hope was something many of us allowed to feel for the first time in a long time, but that proved fleeting.
The Dawn of American Hope
A few hours later, we witnessed the unthinkable scenes from our nation’s Capitol, where something far worse than our nightmares and imaginations could construct, played out live on our televisions and laptops. The shock and the terror and the grief of that day will be with us for the rest of our lives, as we saw a sitting president weaponize people against their own government.
The Dawn of American Hope
We watched through the night and into the morning, seeing the best and the worst of those leading us—and as the sun came up on Thursday, the despair gave way to anger, as we realized not only the severity of the attacks on Congress the day before, but witnessed so many people we loved or respected or looked to for leadership, double-down on it, or manufacture fictional story lines to distract from the sickening reality of their political affiliations.
Today, amidst the welcome news of social media bans and terrorist arrests, the sobering truth has settled in for me, that the horror of this week has been largely the handiwork of lawmakers, ministers, and citizens, professing faith in a Jesus they have no desire to emulate. It has been a fresh occasion to mourn what this Administration has revealed about our nation: how afflicted we are with racism, how fractured we are relationally, and how subjective truth has become.
If you’re a feeling human being, you’re likely exhausted right now, and I am, too. I haven’t begun to really process the past 96 hours (how could any of us) and I can’t anticipate how much of this will unfold, but here's what I know:
This Administration is ending on January 20th.
This president will face accountability.
Joe Biden and Kamala Harris will be sworn in.
The Senate will flip Blue.
We will course-correct this nation.
We will keep doing the work of loving one another, of demanding equality, and building the America that could be but is not yet.
Get some rest, you've lived a lifetime this week.
This week was a long decade.
Sometimes, it’s staggering how much living we can fit into a single day, in both beautiful and terrible ways; the way 24 hours can expand to contain more eventful, heart-altering moments that seemingly possible in that short span of time. Sometimes that is a gift and other times it is torture. The past four days have been some of the fullest I can remember:
Wednesday morning brought the radiant dawn of wonderful news from Georgia, that Jon Ossof and Reverend Rafael Warnock had flipped the Senate, bringing limitless possibility to the coming presidency. We exhaled in gratitude. Hope was something many of us allowed to feel for the first time in a long time, but that proved fleeting.
The Dawn of American Hope
A few hours later, we witnessed the unthinkable scenes from our nation’s Capitol, where something far worse than our nightmares and imaginations could construct, played out live on our televisions and laptops. The shock and the terror and the grief of that day will be with us for the rest of our lives, as we saw a sitting president weaponize people against their own government.
The Dawn of American Hope
We watched through the night and into the morning, seeing the best and the worst of those leading us—and as the sun came up on Thursday, the despair gave way to anger, as we realized not only the severity of the attacks on Congress the day before, but witnessed so many people we loved or respected or looked to for leadership, double-down on it, or manufacture fictional story lines to distract from the sickening reality of their political affiliations.
Today, amidst the welcome news of social media bans and terrorist arrests, the sobering truth has settled in for me, that the horror of this week has been largely the handiwork of lawmakers, ministers, and citizens, professing faith in a Jesus they have no desire to emulate. It has been a fresh occasion to mourn what this Administration has revealed about our nation: how afflicted we are with racism, how fractured we are relationally, and how subjective truth has become.
If you’re a feeling human being, you’re likely exhausted right now, and I am, too. I haven’t begun to really process the past 96 hours (how could any of us) and I can’t anticipate how much of this will unfold, but here's what I know:
This Administration is ending on January 20th.
This president will face accountability.
Joe Biden and Kamala Harris will be sworn in.
The Senate will flip Blue.
We will course-correct this nation.
We will keep doing the work of loving one another, of demanding equality, and building the America that could be but is not yet.
Get some rest, you've lived a lifetime this week.