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It was the Sunday after the election, and everywhere I looked I could only see impending doom.

There is no way God would have allowed Barack Obama to become president were He not finally turning America over to judgment, to whatever great or lesser extent that will be.

I sat in my mother’s church and was surprised to feel anger when the worship leader smiled and sang the same songs as ever, as if life hadn’t drastically changed the week before, as if the Church itself wasn’t indicted by Obama’s election.

Then my eye caught a teen with Down syndrome coming late to service with his mother, sitting down the row from me.

He immediately began to sing with all his ecstatic might, smiling heavenward and air-playing guitar with the band, all for God.

And I began to cry … pretty hard, shoulder-shaking hard. I hadn’t done that yet, but pent up sorrow was no excuse; this was ridiculous. I got a grip and dialed it down to rolling tears throughout the song service, and then got distracted by a very good sermon on listening for God to speak.

But I started up all over again when running after the boy after service to meet him and tell him how much his worship had uplifted me.

His Mom thanked me, saying she always worried Eric might be a distraction. It was so opposite of that for me. Eric reminded me of Jesus and the coming joy and why I fight abortion and why I was so sad, all rolled up into one kid.

I could only murmur, “Oh, no,” and restart the crying, leaving Mom with a slightly puzzled expression. It was too long a story.

I described that incident on my blog Monday and got enough notes of sympathy I decided I’d better get a grip. Pity is pathetic.

Enough of this, I said to myself. Barack Obama is only a man. The fight against abortion does not start and stop with the president. He can help, and he can hurt. But if this president tries to hurt, he’s in for a fight.

I felt my missing buddy, militancy, return.

Yesterday during my devotion, I read Psalm 66:7. “He rules forever with his might. He watches every movement of the nations. Rebels will not be able to oppose him.”

So God spoke to me twice this week, which was nice. I really needed it.


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