The last few days have been intensely emotional for
true hearted Americans. Words cannot adequately express the array of emotions
and sorrows we have experienced.
What took place on Tuesday was a travesty, a
travesty of historical proportions. I, like many others was heartbroken at America’s
colossal mistake, the reelection of Barack Hussein Obama. During the months,
weeks, and days leading up to the election I had dared to hope that Americans
would pull through, but much to my heartbreak, the American people are far more
entrapped in their sense of entitlement and moral decay than I had thought.
Tuesday was a difficult day for me. I don’t think I
have prayed that much and that fervently for a very long time. I have to admit
that I was emotional most of the day. I shed many hopeful and fearful tears
during those prayers, and when I rose from my knees I was usually filled with
the peace that only God can give. Yet, I knew that the peace I felt did not
mean that the election would yield the results I wanted, it just meant that
everything was going to be alright in the end.
I have been a historically obsessed person for as
long as I can remember. I am rather sensitive to the emotional undercurrents of
history and things of a historical nature. The moment I woke up on Tuesday I
could “feel” the historical significance of the day. Regardless of who won the
election, I knew that the course of American history was about to change. I
woke up, dropped my three-year-old off at preschool, and proceeded to run some
errands. I finished quickly and arrived to pick my son up twenty minutes early.
As I sat there in the car I was left alone
with my thoughts. With my youngest sleeping sweetly in the back of my van I was
able to retreat internally and assess the emotions that were swarming in my mind
and heart. I felt an overpowering need to record my thoughts, but without a pen
and paper I was forced to text my sister with my brief journal entry. I have chosen to share those personal thoughts
with you.
“I
feel strange today…it is as if history holds its breath. I have never felt like
I have lived a more historically weighted day in my life. Whatever happens
today, whether good or ill, this is probably one of the most significant days
in our earthly lives. I am trying not to be afraid because I know that faith
and fear cannot co-exist. But I cannot shake the significance of what today
feels like. The air feels different and heavy…it is like I am sitting at the
death bed of one of my dearest friends. By some miracle America might be able
to live awhile longer, or tonight we might have to weep as we say goodbye and
watch her slowly pass away.” (November 6, 2012 @
11:20 A.M.)
Later that night as I watched the results come in,
the full impact was almost unbearable. It was a black and sleepless night as I
mourned for my country and considered the bleak implications this decision held
for our future.
My journey over the last 48 hours has been uniquely
personal, and I can best describe it with what I would like to call “The Parable
of the Scrub Oak Tree.”
Scrub Oak is a shrubby tree that is native to North
America. Recent studies have reason to believe that its ancestral origins date
to roughly 7000 years ago. It is a
tenacious and hardy and survives readily in dry climates with shallow soil. Despite
its hardy nature, recent domestic development in my local area have increasingly rendered our
particular variety of Scrub Oak a rarity and it is not uncommon to see that
when people build their homes they protect and build around and within groves
of this amazing and historical tree. I can attest to its hardy nature. It sends
out intricate root systems and sprouts like crazy and more than half of our backyard
lawn is under attack from the small grove that lives in one corner. I have
actually found myself irritated with the volunteer spreading of these trees
more than not. Yet, I have come to
admire this tree, and yesterday I came to love it.
You see, among all of the trees whose leaves turn
all different shades of red, gold, and brown and slowly float to the ground in
the fall, the leaves of the Scrub Oak Tree hang on tenaciously. Just last week
as I did the dishes and gazed out the window I remember noticing in passing
that all the branches on the trees in
our backyard were pretty much bare, except for those of the Scrub Oak trees.
The golden yellow leaves of the Scrub Oak tree were still stubbornly holding
on, even after brisk winds, bitter cold, and a recent snowfall. Quite honestly,
I didn’t think much of it at the time. But yesterday as I sat at my kitchen table
on one of the darkest and most heartbreaking mornings of my lifetime, I noticed
that the leaves of our Scrub Oak trees were slowly drifting to the ground in
droves. At that moment I knew that figuratively, those tenacious American trees
were weeping, our beautiful and brave land was weeping for the injured ideals
of our sweet America, and I wept with it.
For me, Tuesday night and all day Wednesday were
days of mourning. I can see the results of
America’s grief as I look at the now utterly bare branches of my Scrub Oak
trees. I too feel bare, and as much as I hate to admit it, over the last 48
hours I have had moments where my soul has shivered as the realization of what
has happened to the America I love has echoed emptily in my bones. But today as I gaze at those now bare branches
and watch my children play gaily in the fallen leaves, I know that in the spring
those branches will sprout anew. By May
of next year those naked limbs will be filled with a lush green canopy and
those annoying roots will begin to sprout up again and further traumatize my
lawn.
There is hope. Even though our country is divided along
unbelievably sharp moral and ideological lines, there is still a lot of goodness
in at least half of the American people. We, like those obstinate Scrub Oak
trees, must refuse to give up in the battle for the preservation of America and
her ideals. We must be tenacious and stubborn as we cling to what is right. The
Scrub Oak thrives in unfriendly climates, and likewise, we must dig deep and
survive what is to come. I can’t help
but think of my favorite movie quote as I write this. This quote is from a
point in the Lord of the Rings Trilogy
where all hope seems to be lost and the evil is so strong it seems to suffocate
those fighting for good. Frodo, who is weak from carrying the burden of the
ring collapses in Sam’s arms and the following exchange occurs as the stalwart and
noble Sam urges that they continue their quest despite all of the impenetrable
odds.
Sam: “It's like in the great stories Mr. Frodo, the ones that
really mattered. Full of darkness and danger they
were, and sometimes you didn't want to know the end because how could
the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much
bad had happened? But in the end it's only a passing thing this shadow, even
darkness must pass. A new day will come, and when the sun shines it'll shine
out the clearer. Those were the stories that stayed with you, that meant
something even if you were too small to understand why. But I think Mr. Frodo,
I do understand, I know now folk in those stories had lots of chances of
turning back, only they didn't. They kept going because they were holding on to
something.”
Frodo: “What are we holding onto, Sam?”
Sam: “That there's some good in the
world, Mr. Frodo, and it's worth fighting for.”
I second Sam’s plea. There is still a lot of good
and it is paramount that we fight for it! America is not dead, but she is
critically wounded and bleeding out fast. I pledge to her that I will fight for her and
the God given principles and morals that she represents until my last breath. Even
if that means I fight for a memory of what she once was. We know that ultimately, whether in this life
or the next, good will triumph over evil. A wise and inspired man stated the
following concerning this epic and age old battle.
“The
future of this world has long been declared; the final outcome between good and
evil is already known. There is absolutely no question as to who wins because
the victory has already been posted on the scoreboard. The only really strange
thing in all of this is that we are still down here on the field trying to
decide which team’s jersey we want to wear!” Jeffery R.
Holland
This is a war of ideologies and morality and it is not
only time to pick which team you want to represent, it is time to put on your
jersey! History truly did hold its breath on Tuesday, and with its haggard and
disappointed exhale we are left with some incredibly bitter circumstances. The
only thing we can control is how we react to those circumstances. Are you going
to become dejected and despondent or are you going to dig your heels into the
earth like the wise Scrub Oak tree and fight like hell?
I know what I am going to do.
Copyright 2012. All rights reserved by Kristin E. Perez