When I got knocked up out of wedlock, I was not thriving in any sphere of my life. Newly jobless, freshly homeless, and on the losing end of an addiction to Percocet and cheap wine, it was not an ideal time to be having a baby.
“You’re not actually considering having this baby, are you, Kaeley?” more than one person asked me incredulously as though the obvious, most sensible course of action was to abort this little life within my womb.
They didn’t ask it to be cruel. They weren’t trying to insult me. They were just looking down the pike through logical, human eyes, and they couldn’t see a way for this particular set of circumstances to end well for anyone involved. Babies needed stable parents, a safe place to live, clothes on their backs, and food in their bellies, and from where I was sitting at that time, none of these things were in the cards.
But God.
My crisis pregnancy has become one of my greatest blessings. He turns 16 next week, and each day I marvel at some new aspect of the way God is using Him to create goodness in this world.
“You can’t have a baby,” they told me. “Say goodbye to your future.” But it turns out this baby didn’t actually ruin my life; in many ways he saved it. He gave me a focal point and something beyond myself to care about and invest in—a reason to get my act together. Those were difficult days, but the Lord was faithful to bring me through them with the help and support of other believers, and it’s something I’ve been thinking about a lot lately—this understanding that God is not limited by our circumstances, that He can take even the crappiest, darkest, most bleak situations and work them out for our ultimate good and His glory.
Obey God. Do the right thing. Be a faithful steward of the gifts He’s given you, and trust Him to work out the rest.
It’s become a sort of mantra in my life, which has been chock full of difficult situations where I couldn’t, through human wisdom, see how there could possibly be a light at the end of the tunnel.
Obey God. Do the right thing. Steward your gifts. Trust His provision.
As we move toward the end of this election season, I am troubled by the volumes of deep and incapacitating fear I encounter on both sides of the political divide. No matter how you vote, if you make your position known, someone will inevitably tell you that you are ushering in the end of democracy. Because of you, children will die. You are the reason our grandchildren will no longer have a country. If your candidate is sworn into office, this is the very last time you will ever even have the luxury of voting in an election. You have literal blood on your hands.
Have you heard any of this yet? If you’re on Twitter at all, it’s almost inevitable. The catastrophizing is off the charts.
Earlier this week, someone in my own party told me that I should be shipped off to a communist country where millions of Christians and their pastors are killed or imprisoned. Another person told me I am as evil as the women who trans their kids. One woman informed me, through great disgust, that by choosing not to vote for her preferred candidate, I am “tempting God” himself. Another guy got straight to the point and just demanded that I “repent.”
It would be almost comical if it weren’t so very sad.
Look, I think elections matter. I think God expects His people to show up and participate in the formation of the laws that govern them. I think it’s our civic duty to vote for policies and people that facilitate righteousness and justice. In so far as we are able, I think we owe the world our best effort to instate systems that lead to human flourishing. And I do believe issues like abortion and the chemical castration of children are so spiritually weighty that no sincere Christian has any business voting for those who promise to work overtime to facilitate said evils. Don’t hear me giving anyone a free pass to sit passively on the sidelines singing “kumbaya” instead of prayerfully participating in the legislative process.
Apathy is not a virtue. You don’t get holiness points for saying stupid things like, “I don’t do politics; I do Jesus.” Your ability to share your faith at all without fear of persecution is a direct result of the faithful work of Christians who recognized their civic duty to engage the political process. If you’re sincere in your desire to build the Kingdom of God, you’re going to need to learn to care about defending it from legislation that threatens it. So by all means, show up. Vote your conscience. Pray for righteousness.
But then learn to leave the rest in God’s hands. Don’t bind peoples’ consciences by behaving abusively toward them if they aren’t voting the way that you want them to. Don’t spiritually abuse or manipulate other believers by shoving alleged prophetic words in their faces to shame them into compliance with your will. Don’t tell them they’re being hoodwinked by Satan himself if they see things differently than you do. Don’t hang all your hope for the future of democracy on your preferred political candidate. Don’t run around screaming that the sky is falling if the person you voted for loses. The Bible is very clear in its instruction for humans not to put our trust in princes.
Democracy is not over because one candidate wins or loses. Democracy is over when the good Lord decides it is. Do you trust Him or not? Is He good or not? Will He provide or not?
God is not limited by elections. He could snap His fingers and remove both candidates in an instant. Then what? If He can accomplish His will through a talking donkey, He can certainly turn the tide using Trump or Harris or something else entirely. Have you stood for righteousness? Have you compromised integrity for the promise of power? Is your faith leading your politics, or is it the other way around?
I don’t welcome national destruction or persecution any more than the next person. It doesn’t sound like a whole lot of fun to me. But even the persecuted church continues to thrive. Light shines brightest in the dark, so even if the election goes haywire and we end up with the worst possible candidates in office and laws that usher in chaos, the truth remains that King Jesus is on the throne, and He hasn’t forgotten us. We answer to no one’s authority but His.
Holocaust survivor Corrie Ten Boom put it this way, “When a train goes through a tunnel and it gets dark, you don't throw away the ticket and jump off. You sit still and trust the engineer.” Are we trusting Him no matter what? Is the way we are treating people who disagree with us reflecting that trust?
My Bible promises me that “Of the increase of His Kingdom and government, THERE WILL BE NO END.”
So take a deep breath. Obey God. Do the right thing. Trust Him to work out the details. Even if the situation looks bleak, He’s still masterfully working all things together for our good, and His goodness will always claim the last word.
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Thank you for this. I’m tired of people vilifying each other.
A timely word. Thanks.