My American readers are likely feeling sick to their stomachs about the presidential election. Regardless of which side of the aisle you sit on, things are crazy out there! And regardless of who wins, I certainly don’t feel like the chaos and antagonism will simmer down.

Nevertheless, I’m optimistic.

Or rather, I’m hopeful.

Or better, I’m just not that worried… Because the situation just isn’t that serious!

May I please try to explain?

A dramatically new perspective on the drama

The whole world is sick, my friends, sick unto death. The diagnosis is terminal. And I’m not talking about the election—it’s just a symptom of our collective terminal illness. Nations die. Tyrants come and go. We have been spiraling down the drain of history ever since the first sin.

Our instinctive response to a terminal diagnosis is despair. And for good reason! I’ve got an expiration date! And the journey from here to there is full of certain pain and agony. There is no light at the end of this long dark tunnel. THIS IS SERIOUS!

And yet, the death and resurrection of Jesus lets us glimpse behind the curtain. Death is not the end. It’s the beginning! It’s the beginning of a wonderful new story; a story so rich and exciting, so full of beauty and adventure, so full of friends—so full of God—that my disease-addled neurons can’t fully picture it.

In God’s way of doing things, death isn’t the problem. It’s the cure!

So the current state of things are indeed hopeless. Death, tyranny, and suffering are facts of this side of life, but they aren’t that serious. Because in the life after this life they don’t exist at all! And there is no end to that life!

In the meantime…

But what about in the meantime?! I mean this world still hurts! Our present pains are still God-awfully painful!

Just knowing there is a future life free from all suffering, doesn’t make today’s pain hurt any less. We Americans may still have to pass through some very dark times. And frankly, I don’t wanna!  

Reframing our perspective can make this life more bearable, but not less painful.

It’s a good thing that Jesus doesn’t live only on the other side of the curtain. He also lives here and now. He suffers with us. His Spirit comforts and sustains us. His church embodies his love and care for us. His children bear each other's burdens. We may be traveling a long, dark, painful journey, but we are not traveling alone!

At least, we don’t need to.

Here’s the deal. This email is going to be just words unless you and I do something with the words. Here are my suggestions:

1. Consent with your heart and body to the reality of the resurrection.

Don’t just read the words or think the thoughts. Pause long enough to feel the true weight of a God-filled eternity. If you need more help doing this, please check out Chapter 14 of Liv’s and my new book, Not Home Yet. Liv does a masterful job of guiding us into feeling it.

2. Reach out to someone!

From that place of hope—the mind-body-soul feeling of confidence in God’s goodness  for your future—reach out to someone you know who is hurting. Perhaps a simple text is enough? (“Hey, God just brought you to mind, how are you doing?”) Maybe a coffee date? Don’t feel the pressure to fix anybody’s problems. Don’t require them to feel better because you’ve extended care. Just shoulder the load of their pain for a bit. I promise it will do them a world of good.