When History Holds Its Breath

The following was written on November 8, 2012:
 

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