It would be so much easier to bear a Trump presidency if I hadn’t learned about structural racism.
Easier if I’d avoided stories from my black and brown friends about micro-aggressions, ignored history, police violence, and daily grief.
Easier to stay positive if I hadn’t figured out exactly how sexual assault happened in my high school youth group.
Easier if I’d never asked my brother and sister for permission to share parts of their assault stories.
Easier if I’d never faced my complicity in racism, misogyny, and abuse. Easier if I’d just well enough alone.
If I’d stayed quiet and small and naive, I could have ignored what’s happening. I could have told myself it has nothing to do with me. I could have preached to myself that Jesus is on the throne no matter what.
I could have pretended.
Easier to not hit my head on the brick wall of willful ignorance (my own and others’).
Easier to not hear people love dismissing Christ’s command to pray for their enemies.
Easier to not understand the implications of putting a demagogue in the White House.
Easier not to hear the grief of people directly affected by hateful politics.
Easier not to see, not to notice, not to pay attention.
I am grieved by the coming Inauguration. But even as I grieve, I feel thankful. Because despite the Administration we’re facing, I’m ever more thankful for deliverance from ease.
I’m over at the Mudroom today, talking about the strange blessing of feeling pain. Won’t you join me there?
Breaking Bread with People Who Hurt You