Letter #158: All Will be Well
Perfect Peace
McSpence.
I did not get to bed until around four AM this morning, and I have to go back to work momentarily, so this may a bit rushed and blurry. (I know you worked late too, but you are young and strong, whereas I quietly passed away around one in the morning.)
Last night, my candidate, Donald Trump, won back the presidency. I was fairly certain he would, so I was calm as it unfolded, but nonetheless delighted when the results came in.
It was a truly important election. It’s routine to predict that a political loss will spell the end of every good thing, but I didn’t believe that. All the same, Trump's opponents don’t seem to love what is best about the American experiment, and many of their goals are extraordinarily authoritarian and oppressive.
What’s more, they routinely abuse the legal system and transgress the First Amendment. Had they won, they might have endangered my livelihood and even my freedom. The only time in the evening I was overcome by emotion was when a talented young artist who has been accused of crimes for political reasons approached me at the Daily Wire office party. “I’m not going to jail!” he said. That he should have to say those words broke my heart. That he could say them moved me deeply.
There was much talk of God last night. God had protected Donald Trump from a bullet. God had written a comeback narrative for the ages. God had given our nation a chance to turn away from abortion and other atrocities and become what G. K. Chesterton once said we were: “a nation with the soul of a church.”
I believe all this is so. All outcomes are with God and there are none without him. But, of course, when the evening began, we could not predict what the outcomes would be. Free will is real, and God will let us thwart his present plans if we insist. The votes were ours to cast.
But loving God, we know he will ultimately put even our catastrophes to some good end, even if it’s an end beyond our understanding.
And so while I am, of course, jubilant in victory, I would have gone on in defeat as before, speaking what I believe to be the truth. Loss of livelihood would not have stopped me. I know this, because it has not stopped me in the past. Loss of freedom would not have stopped me. It might have killed me, but not stopped me. I have no doubt about it.
So all night, and in all the nights before the vote, I was at perfect peace. The peace that passeth understanding, I believe they call this in the Christianity business. Knowing God, trusting him, loving him, I knew all would be well, and all manner of things would be well.
This peace is one of God’s greatest gifts to us. Also, this gratitude.
Love, Dad
In the city where I live, late on Election Day afternoon, we experienced a rainstorm and then the sun burst out, and a huge complete vivid double rainbow like I've never seen before proclaimed to me God's promise of unfailing care for His creation. It was truly stunning, and I exulted in its beauty with a colleague. That same colleague the next day stood in the office, commiserating with several others about the results of the election, and I said in my cheerful way, "But remember the rainbow yesterday afternoon." Immediately, they all said, "I know, we took that as a sign that Kamala was going to win." I cheerfully reminded them that a rainbow reminds us that God, who orders all things to His perfect will, will unfailingly care for us. And their response was telling, "Well yeah, yeah, we know that, but..." These are friends who would say they trust in God. That experience combined with the numerous conversations I had with students who were completely caught up in the dark and dire online and social media interpretation of the election as spelling the end of all good things reminded me what a gift it is to have one's heart firmly fixed where true joy is to be found. Returning as a nation to a more robust faith and trust in God is a long long road we still have ahead of us it seems to me, and that can't be accomplished by an election. An endless amount of good work to do!
Drew, I am so grateful for you. The subject of your latest letter was also the subject of my Tuesday morning meditation. You and I often seem to be singing off the same sheet of music; although, with your skill, it would probably be fairer to say that you’re the organist elevating our hymn from the ordinary to the sublime. Anyway, I’m glad to be on this journey in the company of souls looking up. What an incredible time to be alive when we have the ability to enjoy fellowship with strangers. Woohoo!