Thursday, August 17, 2017

It gave me pause.

I don’t know, friends. 

 Just when I think he can’t possibly go any lower, 
he proves me wrong. 

 I keep telling you there aren’t any words to describe 
how disheartened I am by the current inhabitant of the White House 
and all the moral midgets 
who stand silently by his side 
while he attempts to destroy
everything decent and honorable about our country.
 Maybe I should just say there aren't any new words. 

 I chastise myself, 
thinking I should know better.
#45 will NEVER change; 
he will ALWAYS be a con man and a liar. 
 Knowing HE won’t change, 
I keep thinking I should.

I shouldn’t watch so much (or any) news.
I should shake my head and let the inanity roll off my back 
rather than scream at the screen until my blood pressure reaches stroke level. 
I should retire to my happy place, read and pray – for the next 7 years, 
accepting what I can’t control 
and letting God be God. 

But it’s not working.

I went to church early on Sunday morning 
after being overwhelmed all weekend by news of the tragedy and horror 
unfolding in Charlottesville. 

I went early because I knew I needed extra time and space to pray -
for forgiveness and
for a softening of my heart. 

You see, the reality is that as I watched the news of people with my skin color, 
carrying tiki torches
and spewing hatred for anyone other than them,
other than us
my anger grew
and, along with the anger and disgust, 
there was hatred. 

Seriously, my anger matched theirs; 
if it could have grown legs
it would have marched in goose step 
parallel to them;
shouting different phrases
but radiating hatred all the same.

white nationalists,
 the KKK,
all the people who encourage or tolerate them 
and whoever else considers themselves part
of the so called ‘alt-right’ –
whatever the hell that is -
beyond a pathetic attempt to make themselves sound
more palatable and benign.

My hatred quickly broadened into hating
all confederate Southerners 
because, let’s face it, if they hadn’t existed 
we wouldn’t have had the damn Civil War to begin with, 
let alone having to deal with the so called ‘dilemma’
of what to do with their damn sculptures. 

Frankly, I don’t think it’s a dilemma at all. 
They’re statues celebrating traitors who sought to tear our country apart.
We wouldn’t put up a statue of Timothy McVey in Oklahoma 
or the 26 terrorists who flew into the Trade Center on 9/11 in NYC.
Why have the likes of Robert E Lee, Sherman, Jefferson Davis
 and all the other secessionists around? 
They wanted to leave this union– so leave!!

 Oh, and while I was at it, 
I threw evangelical Christians into my Hate bucket as well;
those miscreants who have contorted the gospel, 
the ‘good news’, 
into being nothing more than a message
 their ignorance and intolerance.

I really hate those right wing religious nut-jobs 
because they’ve co-opted
all I hold sacred 
and made ALL Christians suspect.

As I sat and wept,
I realized that all my hate 
made me exactly like 'them'.

This isn't to say that 
righteous disgust and moral outrage
directed at the actions of people
who would deprive other human beings 
of the very act of existence
is wrong.

It's not to say I won't continue to fight against the forces - and faces - of evil.

It's just a recognition that the feelings,
the ease with which they sprang up,
and the depth and intensity of them
 did make me slip off my high horse 
(for a few minutes)
and I have to fight like hell
to resist becoming the evil I deplore.
God, it's never been this hard to be a citizen of the United States.

It's exhausting.

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