It’s Always Darkest Just Before Dawn

You Have Our Attention, Lord

A prayer by Max Lucado written in October 2008

Our friends lost their house
The co-worker lost her job
The couple next door lost their retirement
It seems that everyone is losing their footing

This scares us.
This bailout with billions.
These rumblings of depression.
These headlines: ominous, thunderous-“Going Broke!” “Going Down!” “Going Under!” “What Next?”

What is next?
We’re listening.
And we’re admitting: You were right.
You told us this would happen.

You shot straight about loving stuff and worshiping money.
Greed will break your heart, you warned. Money will love you and leave you.
Don’t put your hope in riches that are so uncertain.
You were right.
Money is a fickle lover and we just got dumped.

We were wrong to spend what we didn’t have,
Wrong to neglect prayer and ignore the poor,
Wrong to think we ever earned a dime.
We didn’t. You gave it.
And now, tell us Father, are you taking it?

We’re listening. And we’re praying.
Could you make something good out of this mess?
Of course you can.
You always have.

You led slaves out of slavery, Built temples out of ruins,

Turned stormy waves into a glassy pond and water into sweet wine.
This disorder awaits your order.
So do we.

Through Christ, Amen.

What emotions are evoked in you after reading the poem?

I’m already glued to the television.  I can’t help myself . . . I’m switching channels, surfing from news channel to news channel, comparing the projected Electoral College totals, enthralled by the latest poll numbers.

Like the rest of America, I am poised to cast my vote in the morning and then wait to hear what America’s future looks like.

And as I read that poem and for several hours afterward, the phrase that would not leave my consciousness was this one:  It is always darkest just before the dawn.

It has been a very dark eight years.  Depressing, demoralizing, stress-filled, discouraging.  We have watched the news reports about our fellow citizens dying on foreign soil and repeatedly asked ourselves why they  are there, praying, “Please, Lord, bring them home safely . . . soon.”  We have watched the value of our paycheck shrink and wondered how to fill up our children’s stomachs along with the gas tanks of our vehicles so that we can go back to work tomorrow and continue earning enough money to pay our bills and keep our homes.  We have watched our friends, neighbors, coworkers, and family members lose their jobs, homes, health insurance, and pride, and silently said, “Thank you, Lord, for not letting that be me” as we wondered why we were spared but those good people weren’t.  We have looked in the mirror and noted more gray hairs following another sleepless night spent tossing, turning, chasing away nightmares about being rendered unemployed and homeless, and prayed, “Let the company make it through the end of the year so that the kids can have a nice Christmas, at least.”  We have watched our aging parents choose which medications to take and which to skip because they can’t afford to purchase all of the prescriptions issued by their doctors.

And yet . . .

For those of us who believe in a force larger than ourselves that will never abandon or forsake us, there remains hope — that elusive, indefinable, portrayed-as-naivete-by-the-world emotion that allows us to get up every morning, survey our homes, neighborhoods, and families, and say “Thank you.”

I have not heretofore written about politics, instead preferring to place a few carefully selected quotes and images in the sidebar signifying where I stand on the issues.  It will come as no surprise then that I will be casting my vote for Barack Obama as I believe that he embodies the values, opinions, world-view, and leadership qualities that this nation needs at this moment in history.

As recently as this morning, I sat in front of the television set, mesmerized by the eloquent manner in which he addressed the crowd assembled to see him in person, moved to tears by the way in which he spoke about inclusiveness, not divisiveness; unity, not factions; dreams being achievable, not personal attacks upon and tired, pejorative commentary about his opponents.  In stark contrast, the news station cut to a live feed of John McCain standing quietly at the podium, smirking and mugging as the crowd booed in response to Obama’s name. But when Obama’s audience began to boo at the mention of McCain’s name, he stopped them, saying, “Don’t boo.  Just vote!”  He has refused to run a campaign that mirrors the small-mindedness, bigotry, haughtiness, and downright mean spirit that has characterized McCain’s. Thus, Barack Obama is the kind of person I want as my Commander-in-Chief.  He is the kind of role model I want for my children and, eventually, grandchildren.

Just as importantly, I knew the moment I heard Sarah Palin speak at the Republican convention that I could never cast a vote in favor of allowing her to hold national office.  As the weeks have dragged on, my initial impressions of her have only been confirmed and reinforced.  I have watched her arrogantly pander to her audiences but fail to live the principles she espouses.  I have listened to her responses to straight-forward questions that any candidate should have been prepared to answer the day she accepted John McCain’s invitation to become her running mate and crinched in embarrassment for her and fear for what will happen to this country if she and McCain are elected.

And most critically for us Californians, I have watched the rhetoric and histrionics surrounding Proposition 8 escalate, praying each day that my fellow Golden State citizens will possess the courage and compassion to reject a measure that would inarguably, inexcusably, and unforgivingly inject discrimination into our state constitution.

But through it all, I have continued to believe that the states of our state and nation are on the brink of improvement.  I have remained hopeful because that is my nature, but that is also the overriding emotion that my faith compels and commands me to feel.

Our Divine Creator will make something good out of this mess.  The Spirit will continue to speak to us and point the way, if we will just remain faithful, hopeful, and listen.

My prayer tonight is that at this time tomorrow, as the election results are being tabulated, it will become apparent that disorder is giving way to order.  And that by midday on Wednesday, it will be evident that it was truly darkest just before the morning light dawned.

Click here to access the list of all participants and read their thoughts.

Is this your first visit to On the Horizon? Be sure to leave a comment (the CommentLuv plugin will display a link to your most recent post)! You're invited to subscribe to the RSS feed. Thanks for visiting!

More information: Internet Cafe Chat