Words Are My Safe Place -- post election musings.

Words have always been my safe place. 

Numbers, science, math are all more logical, more sure, more sturdy. But they feel cold and devoid of nuance, lacking the grey areas that makes us human. Writing has always been where I go when I'm scared.

And these days I'm scared. 

I'm scared because I'm watching the politics rip the church of the United States of America open, leaving her bloodied, battered and scattered across the floor. Jesus' prayer feels distant and idealistic:

"That they may all be one, just as you, Father, are in me, and I in you, that they also may be in us, so that the world may believe that you have sent me."

But that's the thing, when words are your safe place, you hold onto them, no matter how out of reach they may feel. 

They also break your heart when they come in crashing and destroying over social media. 

These days I'm tempted by segregation. I want to distance myself from those who feel so fundamentally different to myself. I want space, a break-up, a canyon between myself and the ones who claim a Jesus who feels foreign. 

Through tears I watch my Muslim, black, Mexican, and LGBT fellow humans cower in fear, strategize for their safety, and think "This cannot be the Gospel! Perfect love casts OUT fear, it doesn't inspire it!"

And since when is grace fair? 

These are the things I find my heart heavy with the days since the election. Maybe you do too. 

But I'm fighting. Not the OTHER, I'm fighting the divide. I'm a strong believer in hugging those who don't hug you back. 

It feels like there are a lot of Christians who aren't hugging me back right now. 

I want to close the canyon. Instead of distancing myself from those who are different to me, I want to lean in and ask questions. I want to listen, I want to show love. 

Show love. Show love to illegal immigrants. Show love to fellow women who feel objectified and used by men. Show love to Trump supporters and Hillary supporters. Show love until it bleeds me dry. If I'm pushed away, I want to lean in harder. We are one. We are the prophetic voice preparing the way of the Lord. 

Jesus says, THIS is how we know who belongs to Him. Not by who we vote for, but by our unity. 

Not by having all the same opinions, ideals and dreams for the future. Not by our country. Not by the color of our skin. But by our love, unconditional, radical, border breaking love. 

These are the words I hide in today.