Thank You Trump

My morning NPR news briefing opened with these words, “It is Donald Trump’s last full day as President.”  I know and am trying to honor that we as Americans feel drastically different about those words.  But for me, I breathed a huge sigh of relief, hit pause, and just let myself feel the enormity of the moment. 

I am under no pretense that we are “out of the woods.” In some ways, the political climate feels as dark, divided and dangerous as ever.  There is so much more I want to explore in the coming days around what we each and all might do to try to bring more light, more truth, and more healing, as we turn this page, if not chapter in our American history.

But for now, as we stand on the threshold of a new President and Congress, I find myself wanting to give thanks for the gifts of the last four years.  Yes, you read me right.  I want to give thanks for the gifts.

As a person of faith, I believe that even in the darkest, most difficult times, God is with us, offering us what we need to come through.  In fact, if I’m honest, it has often been in the most challenging seasons of my life that I have felt closest to God, and have experienced the most growth.  Of course, I can’t always see that or give thanks in the moment; it’s usually in retrospect that I can look back and see just how present God was, and how much provision, gift and guidance was offered.

I keep thinking of this metaphor used in a sermon by the much beloved preacher Fred Craddock.  He describes swimming across a raging river.  The waves are huge, the danger real, and you are flailing, absolutely uncertain whether you will make it to the other side.  But you do.  By the grace of God, in discovering a strength and endurance you didn’t even know you had, you find yourself on the other shore.  Craddock concluded (I regret I cannot find the exact quote):  When you’re in the middle of the river, you cry out, “Help!  I’m drowning!”  It’s only when you reach the other shore that you can look back and say, “Refreshing swim.”

It’s in that spirit, and before we plunge back into another hard swim, that I want to look back at the last four years, and name some gifts and growth I see:

·      I am grateful I have been reminded just how precious AND fragile our democracy is.  Prior to 2016, I had definitely taken it for granted.  Democracy is not a given.  We have to work to protect and preserve it.

·      I am grateful I feel called to step it up as a US citizen.  Prior to 2016, I didn’t feel motivated to do much beyond casting my vote, and maybe donating to a campaign.  I left the hard dialogues and decision-making to the politicians.  Now I feel compelled and empowered to engage more, even as I continue to discern what that looks like.

·      Related to that, I am grateful for a crash course in American History and Civics.  Before 2016, I would think about immigration or healthcare, and just get overwhelmed by the enormity of the problem.  I knew I didn’t know what our current policies actually were, how they worked, how they impacted real-life people, and what it would take to change them.  I either spoke from a place of ignorance, or parroted talking points from my political party or leaders.  I am grateful I felt inspired to become a more informed citizen, humbly admitting there was so much I didn’t know (and still don’t!), and trying to learn more, day by day, bit by bit.

·      I have been absolutely moved and amazed by my fellow Americans feeling a similar call, and trying to step into that gap between where we are and where we want to be, offering their perspective, passion, and expertise to help us reimagine what America can yet be, and to take slow but deliberate steps to create a more perfect union.  I’m thinking of the podcasts launched, the newsletters written, the action checklists compiled, the calls made, letters written, the groups and dialogues organized and facilitated. Starting November 4, 2016, millions of people worked like never before to change things.  I’m sorry we’ve been robbed of really celebrating that effort, the hard-won victories in every corner of America.

·      There has been so much troubling this nation for so long, so much injustice and so much suffering denied or ignored that has piled up.  I am grateful so many Americans, myself included, have had our eyes opened, our ears unstopped, our hearts broken to the pain and suffering of our fellow Americans.  Richard Rohr, reflecting on Jesus’ teaching, writes, “Before the truth sets you free, it tends to make you miserable.”  Many people have described these four years as a reckoning.  As hard and painful as it is, I believe it is ultimately redemptive to confess our sins as a nation, to seek to make amends, and to seek an alternative way forward that is more in line with the values we espouse.

·      I am grateful that among family and friends, church groups and volunteer organizations, I have had some of the most raw, searching and substantive conversations of my life.  About race and gender and wealth inequality.  About immigration, mass incarceration, addiction and gun violence.  About what we want for our families and our country, and what is the role of government, the private sector, and faith communities. I’m grateful for perspective that moves me beyond my little bubble to really wrestle with what it means to love my neighbors, all of them.

·      After many years of feeling like the Religious Right dominated the conversation about the role of Christian faith in public life and politics (different than separation of church and state which I fully support), I am grateful that Christian leaders from other branches and streams of Christianity have found their voice.  I’ve said from the beginning, I felt like the marriage between Trump and white evangelicalism was as threatening to the Gospel as it was to our democracy. I’m grateful other Christians have spoken passionately and prophetically about how the spirit, words and actions of Donald Trump do not square with the nonviolent, truth-telling, inclusive, merciful, self-sacrificing love of Jesus.

Clearly, some are in different places in this moment.  And like I said, I am full on aware that we are still in the messy, dark thick of these violent lurches in our democracy.  But in bewailing the darkness (which I believe we must do), I do not want us to lose sight of all the light.  We still have so much work to do, but I hope we can celebrate the steps and strides we’ve made, even as we pray for strength and endurance to stay the course. 

On this threshold of change, I wonder, what can you name as gifts and growth you’ve experienced these last four years?

And if you are one who feels the opposite, I wonder if this invitation might somehow feel like a small comfort.  If you are scared for our country, wondering if our democracy will hold, I hope you too will find strange and unexpected gifts in your own search.  God is with us.

With gratitude and hope,

Kimberly