It’s not even July and I’m already sick of the 2020 round the clock “news coverage.” And, if one more person decides they need to run for president, I’m heading to the airport to have a real temper tantrum like the two-year-old I saw last week. Yes, I am going there–kicking, screaming, and crying with all my might (though I never was sure what prompted her misery and outburst).
She gave it all she had with not a tear in sight–weeping, wailing, and trying her mother’s patience. The guy in front of me was hoping she was going somewhere other than Denver, where we were headed. I don’t know why screaming, unhappy two-year-olds hang out at airports, but on any given day, there are several.
I’m not two, and the Lord knows I haven’t been for some time but that’s what I feel like with every Tom, Dick, Lilly, and Leroy tossing their hat into the ring. I’ve decided this airport meltdown will be my coping strategy, and no, I’m not trying to wish my life away but November 4 cannot come soon enough. Election Day is November 3—I’m aiming for the day after.
Pundits are pontificating 24/7–surely everything everybody’s saying can’t warrant all this discussion. Nobody’s talking nearly enough about affordable housing and the long-term effects of poverty and homelessness on children and families. Between severe weather and the government’s response to it, we’re in over our heads. If it’s not wildfires destroying whole towns, it’s tornadoes, and the pictures simply break my heart.
I’ve been meeting United Methodists lay people and pastors across the country the past three weeks and they’ve been collecting funds for disaster relief and flood buckets in almost every place. In West Virginia, they were still helping folks get back on their feet from flooding in 2016. The disaster relief coordinators said when these stories move from the front pages and nightly newscasts, it’s easy to forget that these devastating losses don’t get fixed quickly.
Towns hard hit by plant closures leave residents frustrated, broken, and depressed in too many instances. Drugs, both illegal and prescribed ones, have robbed communities of their best and brightest minds. My dear friends, for 2020 and beyond, WE MUST DEMAND MORE THAN EMPTY PROMISES, BICKERING, NEGATIVE ADS, AND GRANDSTANDING.
We need honesty not perfection, and we must elect servant leaders who are compassionate bridge builders, (literal bridge, highway, and dam builders, too) those who understand that we can’t have 535 people, each pulling in a different direction with an agenda, and who get high on their own hype. Leaders must take the high road every time.
Technologically we must be more savvy and proactive to safeguard our elections (especially those of us who never learned to set the VCR clock). We the people, (just a gentle reminder that democracy is dependent on us) must model integrity, applaud visionary leadership, and demand uncompromised values for the sake of our generations. If we’re not willing to do and expect better, let’s just meet at the airport and join the two-year olds, only this time we’ll surely have something to cry about.
Looking for inspiration, empowerment, uplift, straight talk, an encouraging word to brighten your day? You’ve arrived! Meet Dr. Cynthia Ann Bond Hopson, best-selling author, educator, inspirational speaker, sistergirl–she’s all that and more. All the way from Stanton, TN (you can’t get there from here) to 50 states, six continents and everything in between, she’s wise, witty and altogether wonderful. She enthusiastically invites you to slow down, sit a spell, and share a giggle or two.