Eight is Enough

What can I say? What is there to say? As I mentioned to Emily, I am un-fit, at this point to interact with other humans because I can not believe that there is anyone on the opposite side of this election. I have hateful and terrible thoughts about them. Maybe watching some of the Republican convention is what I need to pull me, at least into tolerance. God, I love this man. I need a series of giant posters of Barack Obama's face. Here are just a couple of reminders of why I am so head-over-heels in love:

We may not agree on abortion, but surely we can agree on reducing the number of unwanted pregnancies in this country. The reality of gun ownership may be different for hunters in rural Ohio than for those plagued by gang-violence in Cleveland, but don't tell me we can't uphold the Second Amendment while keeping AK-47s out of the hands of criminals. I know there are differences on same-sex marriage, but surely we can agree that our gay and lesbian brothers and sisters deserve to visit the person they love in the hospital and to live lives free of discrimination. Passions fly on immigration, but I don't know anyone who benefits when a mother is separated from her infant child or an employer undercuts American wages by hiring illegal workers. This too is part of America's promise - the promise of a democracy where we can find the strength and grace to bridge divides and unite in common effort.

Right on. Amen. And, the ending, where he had the flowing, melodic cadence, my sweet God, I was totally enthralled and entranced.

America, we cannot turn back. Not with so much work to be done. Not with so many children to educate, and so many veterans to care for. Not with an economy to fix and cities to rebuild and farms to save. Not with so many families to protect and so many lives to mend. America, we cannot turn back. We cannot walk alone. At this moment, in this election, we must pledge once more to march into the future. Let us keep that promise - that American promise - and in the words of Scripture hold firmly, without wavering, to the hope that we confess.

Maybe this is what's so poignant to me because hope is exactly what I confess when I confess my faith. [this is where things get sappy] Maybe another blog for another day but the reason I continue to cling to my faith in Jesus and a just and loving God is because I believe in hope. And I, like so many other people, had begun to feel like hope was lost. God seems to me to have blessed this man. And watching him up on that stage on the 45th anniversary of the Civil Rights march on Washington felt so much like the culmination of God's blessing on this country. That's how it felt to me. So, I'll close this blog in a little different order than Barack arranged his magnificent speech and end with this:

When Washington doesn't work, all its promises seem empty. If your hopes have been dashed again and again, then it's best to stop hoping, and settle for what you already know.

I get it. I realize that I am not the likeliest candidate for this office. I don't fit the typical pedigree, and I haven't spent my career in the halls of Washington.

But I stand before you tonight because all across America something is stirring. What the nay-sayers don't understand is that this election has never been about me. It's been about you.

For eighteen long months, you have stood up, one by one, and said enough to the politics of the past. You understand that in this election, the greatest risk we can take is to try the same old politics with the same old players and expect a different result. You have shown what history teaches us - that at defining moments like this one, the change we need doesn't come from Washington. Change comes to Washington. Change happens because the American people demand it - because they rise up and insist on new ideas and new leadership, a new politics for a new time.