So, You Wanna Be President?

This is longer than usual, but I don’t ever discuss my political views, so this it, in a huge nutshell.

Resetting the Compass – Day 21
(yes, day 21. I feel like it’s a big thing for the month of January to find things in all areas of my life that can be moved a little further along in a positive direction this year. Not big moves. Not life changing. Just enough to encourage me to be aware and maybe do an increment better all around)

Presidents. As a young pre school child I was vaguely aware there was someone in charge of all of us. I knew it wasn’t a king and queen like in my fairy tale stories. As I got closer to school age, I learned that person was called “The President”. Early in my grade school years my awareness grew to know “He” lived in a white house. Gradually I learned the house was big and the job was even bigger. That’s when it got too complicated for me and I figured as long as “He”, “The President”, was alive and well and in his office, doing his job, I was safe, the country was safe, my family was safe, and I could sleep peacefully at night.

My next real interest in to who was in that white house and what they were doing there, was during the Kennedy era. The fact that children now lived in that white house got my attention. I didn’t much care what “He” was doing. He was just a dad going to work like my dad. My eyes and ears flew to the tv only when those children were on and I could get a glimpse of their life in that white house.

Then “it” happened. It was 1:00 in the afternoon, I was in my sixth grade classroom when the announcement came over the PA that our President has died. I was stunned. Those children just lost their dad. That’s all it meant to me. They weren’t safe anymore. Maybe, now, I wasn’t safe anymore. They closed school and bussed us all home. I sat riveted to the tv with the rest of the country for three days. I had to process this. The images of these children whose dad was suddenly dead, the casket, the pictures of their mom in her pink suit covered with blood was more than I could take. At eleven, that’s when the first pangs of political fear planted themselves somewhere in the back of my young mind. That was the first time I actually felt “we might not be safe”.

We then got a new president and my fears of safety began to subside. Since this president didn’t have young children to live in that white house, he was just another political guy and as long as he did his job, he was irrelevant to my young life. The next president that got my attention was Nixon and only because my grandfather dearly loved him, until one day he did something so wrong that made my grandfather deeply, deeply, sad. This president planted more seeds in the back of my young brain. These were seeds of honesty and integrity. Seeing my grandfather in such a sad state drilled home the importance of always being true and honest and never letting people who were depending on you, down. Enough to suffice that Nixon, in some mixed up way, had a positive effect on my future character.

After that, my high school and college years were a time of great political uprising – in the tv – not where I lived and went to school. All the rioting, anti-war demonstrations, free love and the hippie movement brought out that seed of fear that had been planted when Kennedy died and began to grow it. I was too sacred to even consider a state university and tucked myself away in a private Christian college in western NY, where I would be well-insulated from all the scary stuff going on at “those state schools”. I also knew God lived there and He would protect me.

Life after college brought marriage, career, children, a house and consumed me. Although I watched the news, none of the political issues really mattered to me. There were presidents. They seemed to be good guys. They did their job. Me and my family were safe. Life in rural upstate NY was good. I enjoyed this hiatus from fear until 911. We all know what that did to each one of us who experienced it, and to the generations since that we teach about it. We will never forget. We will never let our children and grandchildren forget. My tiny seed of fear is now magnanimous. It drives my life. It drives everyone’s life, even though we pretend we’re not going to let it.

Since 911, we, as a country, held our own. Just hanging on by our political fingernails. Four years ago a savior entered the political arena. His name was Obama. Many, including myself, placed some hope in someone who was so different and had a bag of goodies that was going to fix all of this. Well, we all know how that worked out.

Here I am today, about 54 years since my first moment of political awareness. I certainly don’t feel safe. I am no where near trusting anyone to be good enough to do the job of running our country. Control freak type A that I am, I should just go do it myself. (If you want something done right, do it yourself – right?) Since that is impossible, what are my choices? Our current savior or the guys battling it out today in South Carolina?

This morning when I woke up, I laid in bed with the news on quietly, listening to the latest rampages of Gingrich and Romney – I want an open marriage and so what if I have an account in the Cayman islands? I felt fear like I’ve never felt it before. For the first time, in a voting year, I felt I had no where else to turn. So I turned over to my pillow and I prayed to the only One who may actually be able to do something about our country’s future.

Who wants to be president? Is there some honest soul out there who doesn’t care about money and fame and just cares about our health, safety, and well-being and doesn’t want anything in return? (I confess the Italian ship captain is also having some effect on me today.)

And so, as another day goes by, the compass today points to paying more attention to our political arena – and, I guess, doing a whole lot more praying for the whole lot of ’em, and ….I have written.

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