I ran over a prairie dog on the way to the coffee shop. I swerved as he darted into my path, but he changed course in a split second, right under my tire. I checked my rear view mirror hoping, somehow, he’d miraculously avoided certain death, only to have my fear confirmed. I was unprepared for the sudden wave of nausea that hit me. I began to tremble, and had to pull over as heaving sobs wracked my body.
As cute as the little critters are, I knew this wasn’t about hitting a rodent.
This is the fallout from weeks of advocacy for the weak. (Really months and months as each new “policy” threatens a vulnerable population.) I’m exhausted, shredded actually, emotionally spent. I’ve had numerous sleepless nights. I’ve researched until my eyes burned, making sure I’m sharing the most accurate information. I’ve been on the phone with the offices of all of my elected officials and sent countless emails. I’ve raised funds for non-profits that hire immigration lawyers to represent the children and parents at the border.
I’ve tried to educate and counter the prevalent misinformation abounding on social media with facts. I’ve challenged theological fallacies with sound doctrine in hopes that eyes would be opened and hearts changed. I’ve been called a “libtard” and “condescending”, told I was being “used by the media”, accused of being “naive” and “stupid.” I’ve felt gutted by my fellow Christians who staunchly defend a policy that strips children of their parents and cages them, in the name of following the law. I’ve been deeply saddened by a complete lack of empathy and compassion on the part of those who call themselves Christ-followers.
I’m worn out.
Should I simmer down and step away from this type of thing?
There are those (almost exclusively on the other side of this “issue”) saying we should all just get along, and stop “letting politics divide us.”
But they don’t understand. This is not politics. This is PEOPLE. It’s about imago Dei. It’s about humanity. I cannot walk away from the mistreatment of fellow humans. I cannot let bygones be bygones when it comes to people.
Some may be surprised to learn that I do believe it is a government’s responsibility to control its borders. Immigration reform is a necessity. That is a political issue on which most of us agree.
But it is a Christian’s responsibility to love everybody, always…to love our neighbors as ourselves…to treat others as we want to be treated. I want to be someone who acts justly, loves mercy, and walks humbly. (Micah 6:8)
It will be a shock, I’m sure, to realize that it’s the last part I struggle with the most. (Read, sarcasm.) Justice and mercy are how I roll. When I see injustice, everything in me burns with righteous anger which fuels me to right the wrong. My heart is rooted in mercy for those who struggle in a society where the deck seems forever stacked against them.
Oh, but humility. Argh.
When I’ve picked a hill on which I’m willing to die, when I’ve done the research and I know for fact injustice IS occurring, when people are suffering and time is of the essence, and some yahoo on social media posts false information justifying the injustice in the name of MY GOD?!? I fear I don’t respond very humbly.
And yet, humility would very much save me so much angst. It would keep me from casting my pearls before swine. It would prevent me from engaging in futile arguments in which my blood pressure raises to perilous levels. It would remind me to walk away. I can educate, but it is not my responsibility to change hearts. It is not up to me to condemn those whom I believe have lost their way and chosen nationalism over Jesus, safety over compassion, comfort over love.
Maybe, if I had chosen all three: justice, mercy, AND humility over the last few weeks, instead of cherry picking my favorite two, I would’ve had the emotional reserves to mourn for the prairie dog appropriately, instead of sobbing uncontrollably for a rodent, God rest his soul.
Oh, fix it, Jesus. There is grace for that.