I love election day. There's always a crisp feeling of hope and empowerment--the opportunity to participate in the process of electing the country's leaders. I was optimistic that once I reduced my kid-load by half, I would be able to seamlessly cast my vote with just the boys in tow.
I hit the polls early and while en route Ben gave a very convincing campaign speech about the benefits of voting for either George Washington or Abraham Lincoln. IF ONLY! The parking lot was slightly tangled, but I found a spot and got inside before losing a kid under a bumper. So far so good. There's something wrong with the distribution of the alphabet when standing in line for your ballot. Apparently everyone in Birmingham has a last name that starts with A-G! My line was slammed and not one person was in any of the other lines (?) I still wasn't deterred. I stood firm, ingesting the sweet scent of Old Spice from all the cute geriatric voters around me. If they could stay the course--so could I! Ballot in hand, I took to the table and sat to record my knowledge of the amendments up for vote, the local candidates vying for office, and the ultimate winner of the beauty pageant--president.
Just I was completing my last bubble, Ben decided to try and change my party affiliation by putting a stray mark of pen through the democratic circle. Now both parties were marked!! Awesome. I was hoping beyond all hopes that it was too small a streak to matter so I stuck it in the machine, hands in pockets, eyes averted at the ceiling, whistling "God Bless America". The darn thing vomitted back out at me. Now I'm headed to the reject line for another ballot.
The kids are getting restless and Granny is eyeing my mismatched kids like I'm some kind of baby snatcher. No time to go back through and vote against the re-allocation of such-and-such land this time. I scan each question with just enough attention to make sure I'm not electing Justin Beiber for congress and turn to see the boys wrestling on the floor!! Good grief. I yell quietly through my clenched teeth to get up immediately and Ben replies (much less silently) with the following glorious statement for all to hear: "But Mom! Will just won't let me pick his nose and he has a booger!"
I sweetly smile around the room at everyone and grab both boys by the hand, cutting off their circulation to their arms, and sprint for the machine. Shove it in, Lady. Keep the 5 cent sticker. Let's get out of here. Done. All that to vote for the candidate who didn't win.
While I had hoped to be starring at Mitt Romney's wonderful pompadour of a hair creation for the next four years, I was not surprised or overly disappointed that I wouldn't be. Why? Because as long as I believe in the standards put forth in God's holy word, a candidate who believes as I do will never make it further than the local PTA election. I didn't care for either presidential candidate this year and I can guarantee that I won't be satisfied with any in the future either. So where does that leave me? It leaves me on my knees praying. Barack Obama is our president and he deserves my respect, support, and my earnest prayers that he will open his eyes to a country yearning for a savior. I pray he realizes that he isn't it! Nor is any other fallen man or woman sitting in a seat of temporary power. The reason we are so desperate, so passionate, so frustrated by national and local politics is because we don't have nor will we ever have anyone who measures up to the task at hand--ruling a world so far gone that we can't even see it. We just need saving from ourselves.
So now we have four years to search far and wide for the next great disappointment. One day the ultimate vote will be cast--a yes or no to Jesus Christ. I pray you can mark the box for the one and only living God who shall never disappoint. If you can't and you are looking unto man to restore this country, then I fear you will be greatly disappointed. You have been lied to. That kind of saving doesn't exist in this world. It exists beyond this world. Let me tell you about Jesus.