It started as a whisper or a gentle breeze. Perhaps it was from the sigh that escaped late Tuesday night. The embers that wear barely glowing started to flicker. And then flame. Until the warmth had surrounded my whole being and all I could feel was pure joy. By the end of the night Friday, I remembered the phrase, “Not this time Satan” from the shirt of a voter. And I was ready.

I went to work numb on Wednesday and Thursday. There was no school Friday so I went grocery shopping by myself. I do a lot of deep thinking in the car. As I drove it hit me. It felt like I had experienced another death. The majority of people who have the same faith as me voted for a man who speaks hate. I felt lost, empty, and alone. And then the fanning of flames slowly started to happen. It started with several private messages from people all over the country standing together. Messages from college friends, high school friends, past church friends, direct sales friends. Messages came from literally every part of my life past and present from men and women. Then an invite to get together and have fellowship and pray. I could feel the warmth and the love start to take over the lonely fear.

I decided to post on a site I’ve never posted on (I only post to my fb page) to help other moms who might have explaining to do and not just about the hate. We have to explain the fact that a clearly qualified WOMAN ran and an unqualified man who speaks disrespectfully towards women ran and…he won.

So on a whim I posted this:

And within ten seconds my fb notifications were on full speed. Other women and men giving encouraging words to my daughter! Telling her she is smart, she isn’t alone, our country respects women! My tears finally arrived. Over 4 thousand people giving my girl encouragement and over 150 comments offering love and support. Some posted pictures of their daughters. One suggested we start calling our daughters “President” instead of “Princess”. Comments from both men and women filled my post. I showed it to my girl. I told her that more people in our country voted for HRK than for him. I told her that hate did not win. Did I need all that support? Did my daughter? No- we have a strong family and a strong sense of worth. Did it help? It sure did. It takes a village my friends. And when you are afraid your village isn’t speaking the love you are speaking at home, it’s a little scary. Our village filled up our buckets with love and compassion.

Friday night I arrived at my friends house. It was dark. I wasn’t sure what to expect. We just needed a place to express our hurt. All Christians, all feeling the same things. We ate, we talked, we got mad, we prayed, we fanned the flame. I left knowing that we are not alone. I left knowing we have each other’s back. We won’t sit by and watch hate win. When we see it, we will stand up to it. When we hear it, we will call it out. When women get together, great things happen. When communities seek to build bridges instead of walls, great things happen. Our nation is already great, we are going to keep it great. 
So to all you fellow “nasty women” keep on encouraging each other. Get together. Offer ideas on how we can change things for the better. Remember a quote from Bush that applies still now, “The resolve of our great nation is being tested. But make no mistake we will show the world that we will pass the test.” 

In Solidarity,

J.

PS: Thank you for all the comments, messages and support the past year. It’s been a doozy!

It’s taken me all day to write this. I am without words today. Just heavy sighs.
I have no more tears left to shed this year. I thought I would cry if America chose hate. But I didn’t. My shoulders just dropped and I literally laughed. 
I have lost a lot this year: the death of very dear friend, the closing of my business, the closing of my college, a few one sided friendships, my maternal grandmother, and today the loss of the America I believed existed. The loss that I have experienced in the last nine months, along with the struggle of regular every day life with work and parenting has made me not as chipper as I normally am.   And that’s okay. And that is normal. We all grieve loss in our own unique way. There is no right or wrong to it. 

Today, someone tried to insult me for standing up for the LGBT community. For standing up for people who do not share my faith. For standing up for people who have no home to go home to. For accepting and loving people who choose differently than I do. I am constantly reminded that my greatest gift is also my greatest hurt. I am taking the “insult” as a “well done good and faithful servant”. 

While we talk about “making America great again” can we also start talking about “making our faith about love again”? Because that seems to be a major part of the problem.

Looking for the joy in the mourning, again.

J.

PS: if you missed it- we wore white on Election Day. The color of women’s suffrage. 

Dear Nine Year Old Jennifer,

You are about to be part of history. It’s really happening. I know dad told you it would never happen. I know you were devastated when you realized the world thought less of you because you were a girl. I know what it felt like to hear someone tell you – not in your lifetime. Guess what? You are 40, and it is possible. Ignore the gross way women are still treated and focus on the strength of the women who have gotten us this far. 

Love,

Me
PS: I’m gonna miss the call from grandma making sure I voted democrat.