I am a nationalist. I LOVE THIS NATION, flawed as it is. I cry every time I hear our national anthem at football games. Heck, I even cry when I sing it by myself in the car, which is often. I love our military. I love the Constitution. I love our freedoms. I love the fact that to be an American means to participate in advanced citizenship. I love being an American. Even in today’s America which is polarized, rabidly hostile, volatile, and petulant (which isn’t much different than the way America has always been).
Before I am a citizen of this country I am a CITIZEN OF HEAVEN. I trust, without hesitation, every decision Jesus makes. I never, and I mean EVER, question the judgment of the One Who Has Creation & Resurrection Power. Jesus is my King. But for some reason that my finite, human mind cannot fathom, King Jesus has allowed Donald Trump to occupy what is arguably the greatest earthly seat of power in the world. Make no mistake, I would be equally dumbfounded if Clinton had won. Even though I voted (too many women, black folks and white folks died for me to have that right- I will not squander it), I voted for neither candidate since neither candidate seemed to have any moral integrity, which I think is just a little bit important for leaders to possess.
Donald Trump is the 45th president of the United States of America. Even as I type that I am shaking my head in disbelief.
And I am sad. Authentically sad.
And so where do I take this consternation? This profound grief over the poor quality of the man now responsible for leading our nation?