I had an odd response to the 2012
presidential election: I stopped watching the news.
I also stopped reading the news
on the Internet.
In fact, not a single television show
appealed to me and the blackened screen simply became a piece of ubiquitous
furniture in the center of the room. At that point I had already abandoned
social media such as Facebook and Twitter so I was left with a decent amount of
time on my hands.
My work as a Catholic publisher
took on a new meaning. I was working on Jennifer Frank’s fiction title He Shall Be Peace and I found myself
praying for it every moment of my work day. My desire to get solid,
entertaining, faith-filled books into the hands of the lay faithful became an
obsession.
As did my own desire to read.
My appetite for books was
ravenous. In the month and a half following the election I read well over a
dozen books. I read the entire Book of Revelation (Navarre Bible Study version)
as well as the entire Gospel of Matthew (Navarre Bible Study version). Every
day brought new titles in the mail (since all our local bookstores have closed).
I visited many Catholic websites and paid high prices for shipping and full
retail price in an effort to make some sort of pro-Catholic statement with my
consumer dollars.
During that time, my own business
required me to have conversations with a variety of people from across the
country: mostly women, but a couple of men, too. Somehow the conversations
always took a turn in which I would need to admit to my perplexing response to
the election (which at first I couldn’t quite explain). I was quite taken aback
as I was told by every person—without exception—“Me, too! I can’t quite figure
out why but I feel drawn inward.”
Very quickly I was able to see
that I wasn’t alone in my reaction. As those conversations became more numerous
and consistent in what people were saying I began to more fully understand my own
reaction: I was being called to strengthen myself in Christ. I needed to
immerse my mind, heart and spirit in the things of Christ. My foundation needed
to be built on the rock of salvation so as to be able to withstand whatever was
to come against it.
Sound crazy?
Maybe.
Okay, probably.
But I recalled the phrase: “Just
because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean someone isn’t after you.”
Just because every generation has
had a Chicken Little doesn’t mean the sky isn’t about to fall.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m no
Chicken Little. At least I didn’t think so…
Since I made a donation to the
2012 Republican Party, I’m now on a few contact lists. A few weeks ago Rick
Santorum’s new Super Pac committee gave me a call.
The gal on the phone said, “If
you could describe your response to the 2012 presidential election in one word
what would it be?”
That’s easy, “Tragic.”
Clearly I gave the sort of
response that led the young person at the other end to proceed according to her
outlined script, “Then may I ask you to listen to a one-minute, pre-recorded
message from Mr. Santorum?”
I have a tremendous amount of
respect for Santorum who is a pro-life, like-minded fellow Catholic so was
easily able to say, “Certainly!”
Now if you would have known me
before the election, you would have rightfully expected my response to the
pre-recorded message to be one of enthusiastic passion as I pulled out my
checkbook and contemplated what I could give and yet still feed my family.
However, my heart rate remained steady as I listened to Rick’s zealous message
about “now more than ever….”
When it was over the gal came
back on the line and continued with her script, “As you can see, it is very
important that we stop the …”
I politely let her finish reading
from her script which then ended with a request for my help. At that point I
responded in the most natural way possible. I didn’t even think about what I
was about to say. It just came out so matter-of-factly that it even caught me
by surprise, “I’m sorry but I believe our time is better spent right now preparing
for Christ’s return.”
There was dead silence at the
other end.
I admit I felt like a right-wing
lunatic—those stereotypical ones that are made fun of in the media and in
Hollywood. I actually felt bad for this young woman as I’m sure she frantically
tried to find that particular response in her script so that she would know how
to proceed. I didn’t want to be rude and hang up so I waited.
After a full minute of silence (during
which I imagined her keying in some sort of comment by my name on her list) she
finally said, “Ok. Thank you.”
To which I could only reply, with
a heart full of compassion for the predicament in which I had unintentionally put
her, “You are welcome.”
I hung up having a whole new
respect for Chicken Little. Poor guy.
Cheryl Dickow
(graphic © Muhammad Hatza Prabowo Aji | Dreamstime.com
No comments:
Post a Comment