My head is a mess of ideas this morning, a big compilation of heavy thoughts and wrenching, reaching motives. First Google searches this morning were:

  • Rule of Law
  • Rule of Etiquette
  • Rule of Debate
  • Principles of Warfare
  • The idea that the conquering army goes in immediately to tend to the enemy wounded

In all the reading I did yesterday, it seemed that the Olive Branches of Peace were being offered, not by the losers, who seem to be still spitting mad and claiming the rest of aren’t even Americans, but by the winners.

The blogs I read, the writers I love all seem to be of a class and stature of generosity, love, inclusion, peacefulness, grace, beauty and joy. It was difficult for them to even discuss politics in the first place.

It has been heart-wearying to see our country so angry that battle lines are being drawn.

America has forgotten so many of the Rules of Engagement and Etiquette. I have witnessed discussions describing those with a different opinion as evil and seen the speakers giving vent to feeling within their rights to hate.

After all this division, I saw hope yesterday. I saw articles of beauty written in non-combative tones, truly speaking for healing.

This article by Jennifer Louden spoke the most brilliantly to me about where we are as a country, and where we need to be, the things we can do in our own hearts, right now, to become a salve of peace in a broken community.

Yesterday I spoke of wanting to stay involved in the work of politics, of understanding the roles and the players. Already, one day later, I am not sure I can handle it. I don’t know that I want to see this side of our civilization. But if those of us who want a more genteel society don’t stay involved, what will become of us? I do not want to wake up in a post-apocalyptic world created by hate and vitriol. I want to be in the world of the hugs in a field of sunflowers from Jennifer Louden’s blog.

Somewhere in between those two extremes there has to be a way to discuss ideas among adults of varying backgrounds and outlooks and still remain concerned for one another’s hearts.

That, and getting busy around the farm. Maybe all these ideas and discussions aren’t as necessary as a good solid day of working with our hands. Maybe if more people did that, we wouldn’t have the time or energy to fight. Last night we had dinner of homemade bread, with homemade mayonnaise from our own eggs, homegrown turkey, our own pickled jalapenos from our garden, and homemade potato chips. Lots and lots of love and work went into that meal.

Love and work and the things we produce with our own hands. Perhaps it is just that simple. Getting back to our farm life could be the solution that soothes my worried brow.

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