This past Tuesday while the nation was glued to FOX, CNN, and online news sources, my little world was swirling in a different path. By 8 pm on November 6, my father-in-law, the precious 91-yr-old godly patriarch who gave me my amazing husband, breathed his last here on earth and stepped over
into Glory. I guarantee you the anticipation of hearing "Well Done!" echo throughout Heaven far surpassed any political announcement that was about to be proclaimed here on earth!
While we made five or six key phone calls to family, our son peeked in on the election headlines. I glanced at the screen and my heart sank as I saw the values and biblical convictions that I fight for on a daily basis being ripped away and mocked across the states. In one fell swoop I was watching both the land I love ... and the man I love, slip away.
Today, the Lord reminded me of an impromptu photo I snapped on my iPhone a few days ago. During one of our visits, my son sat by his granddad's bedside quietly holding his hand -- his right hand -- the hand with the twisted thumb. Even now I smile as I recall the oft-told story of his father valiantly warding off the doctors who recommended amputation after his curious 5-yr-old son reached into the gears underneath their wringer/washing machine! Oh, how we’ve loved that thumb, that hand ... and that man.
But today in this symbolic photo I see more than a man or a thumb: I see a charge to my generation. With the departure of this WWII Navy veteran, responsibility and stewardship of our great United States democracy and the spiritual legacy within it has now officially been transferred to Steve, me,
and our children. And I’m painfully aware of what Dr. Dobson often says: in a relay race the baton is not typically dropped in the straightaway -- it's lost in the exchange.
Evidently, more than a few batons have been dropped here in America, accounting for the blatant amoral results we just witnessed in this week's election. But here's my vow and I shout it from my front door: The cry for new sprinters, new runners and new warriors has not fallen upon deaf ears.
I, for one, will carry that baton.
"For you have heard my vows, O God; you have given me the heritage of those who fear your name" (Psalm 61:5). I hereby pledge to defend that godly heritage with my very last breath. And I pray that one day my grandchild will hold my hand and take that very baton from me when I leave this earth.