Wednesday, 7 November, 2012:
I’m not a political activist, pundit, or powerhouse. That’s why after voting yesterday, I wrote that the precious freedom to vote is of less significance than the precious truth that we are human.
This morning, 51.5% of voters are euphoric (to varying degrees) and 48.5% are despondent (on various levels) based solely on their personal answer to this single question:
Who did you vote for?
Several hours ago, the political map of our country looked like this:
For entirely non-political reasons, I hate this map. Everything about it screams division and dissent. The non-United States of America.
I prefer this map:
A person has to really scrunch up their eyes to pinpoint “my” place. The color scheme has an artistic air about it. The division lines are faint, more like the marks on a master blueprint than the “cut” lines on a butcher diagram.
This map is even better:
This one is better yet:
And this is the best of all:
I vote because I can. Because I have been given that right. Because voting matters – on a temporal level, that is.
But I am not a pinpoint on a blue/red electoral map, defined primarily by my political leanings or judged by my voting record.
I am, rather, a pinpoint in a vast, immeasurable universe. I breathe because I live. I have been granted that miracle. Pinpoints matter – in spite of their smallness – solely because they are defined by their imago Dei and judged by undeserved grace.
The real question (for today) is not Who did you vote for?
The real question (for beyond days) is Who do you live for?