Stage Two: Anger

I came here to dump my vitriol on the page; to rage and rant and blame and punish.

But I'm not going to.

I was interrupted by a Facebook message with an idea that might just help people who are hurting. And maybe I can be a part of it.

And then I was interrupted by my mom asking about our family week all together over Thanksgiving with dogs and young adults and mashed potatoes all under one roof.

And then the wind that had been blowing my sails stilled. I remembered. People. Love. Hope.



Oh, I'm still mad. But less so.

I still don't understand how anyone, any one single person who has read and believed one single line of Jesus of Nazareth could vote for #DonTheCon. They have done so much damage. They did. Not party elites who didn't reach out to the whoever or those who pulled the party too far left or those who voted one way and then abandoned all reason this time.

This election outcome is certainly NOT fault of white women who are themselves the victims of oppression and marginalization and if you don't believe me, try me, the 50 year-old woman who has worked in the employment industry. Try me. I dare you. This is not our fault.

Here's the thing; the people who I trusted to have some common decency and morals did this. I am furious. And I am ready to fight.

The next time a Trumper sneers at my mixed race family or mutters under their breath at us, I am going to confront them with a finger in their face and a phone recording the whole thing.

If my son in the midwest is the victim of a hate crime I'm coming in with media blazing to show those hate filled "nice" midwesterners for who they really are. Fake Christians holding a fake moral ground and willing to believe the con of someone they should have smelled coming a thousand miles away. Shame on them. Look what they have done. Look at our people who are now emboldened to perpetrate hate crimes and hate speech against one another. Shame. This is what their vote has wrought.

OK. I'm still angry.

But less so. Less so. I'm remembering new babies who need a warm circle in which to grow. And old ladies who just want to know their life's work means something. And cozy afternoons with family because in the end, that is what we all want.

May it be so. May it please be so.