One of the boys woke up with a fever.
Another brother had suffered through the same malaise, and I could tell by the looks of the lad, our plans for the Presidential Museum would have to wait. I texted my mother-in-law, to let her know she could still come over. The sick one took his restful place on the couch. The rest of us headed to the kitchen table for school.
I read the kids an article by John Piper called How to Live Under an Unqualified President. The article contained a list documenting many of the president-elect’s widely known flaws and moral failures. I was hesitant to read that part. I didn’t want to heap any more shame upon the man. I asked my husband what he thought.
I went ahead and read the list. They’ve got to learn somehow. In this world in which we live, my children have to learn words like adultery, immoral, and demogogue (I had to look that one up). Something about these discussions will never feel right to me. The world is a far more beautiful place without words like berate or revenge.
I don’t know if the man is qualified or not, but we can choose the way of honor. It’s not that I don’t care about what these men have done. It’s because I care about who God has ordained them to be. We eventually made it to the end of the article, the heart I will always love and respect John Piper for, the part that inspired me:
“There are peoples whose privileges of prosperity and possibility are vastly inferior to ours. Having been so loved by God to receive the gospel, we are debtors to them (Romans 1:14). Do not think of the molehill of moral and social disadvantages of a Trump presidency. Think of the Himalayan mountain range of blessings we have in Christ.”
I used my phone to show them pictures of molehills and the Himalayas, and then the kids continued on with grammar and math. While flipping french toast at the stove, I pictured and pondered and smiled at “the mountain range of blessings we have in Christ.” We enjoyed our breakfast as a family before tuning in to the inauguration.
Earlier that morning, I looked through my Instagram feed. I find Instagram to be a peaceful and inspiring form of social media. I follow a singer/songwriter named Joy Williams. She mostly posts every day pictures of her and her husband or son or the interesting places they travel. Today she posted her personal version of someone else’s song.
She hoped that in some small way, sharing this song could bring people together today. She was trying to speak hope and healing into the context of a torn and divided country. She hadn’t been with him. She was with her. But all day long I listen to the song, and even though I wasn’t with her, I am healing with her. The art has joined us.
by Duran Duran
Crazy, some’d say,
Where is the life that I recognize?
Somehow I have to find.
And as I try to make my way, to the ordinary world
I will learn to survive.