Snowball's Chance in Hell

As you know, if you read my blog, my husband is running for US Congress (House).  I have been thinking of different ways to address writing this blog for a good two months at least.  Sometimes the things that I want to say aren't very nice and I would like to present a blog that is well thought out.

    The campaign so far has been a mixture of ups and downs.  Steve has to do a LOT of driving, we have a pretty spread out district.  He also spends lots of time away from home.  We are not rich; we can not afford for Steve to quit his job.. so on a normal day he wakes up early to go to work in Nashville and kisses me goodbye while I am still asleep.  After a long day at work, it is time for him to campaign.  He drives to any number of locations across Tennessee to meet voters and speak at events, by the time he gets home.. I'm sleeping.  There are weeks where I don't see him at all or only in passing.  Sometimes I have the opportunity to go to events with him and love it when I get to hear him speak.  Instead being upset or left out, I have decided to use this as an opportunity to become a better communicator.  One day I realized that I have become rather involved in my community and more aware of the issues that are all around me.  The best part of it all is all of the amazing people that we have met and the friends we've made that maybe we would have never met otherwise.

So, why a "snowball's chance in hell"?  We were at a donor's house and as we were leaving he said to me, "I think you have a snowball's chance in hell at winning, why don't you try to talk him out of this?" Then a few weeks later after one of Steve's speeches, a little old lady approached him and said," That was a great speech.  You have a snowball's chance in hell at winning, but I really like you".
     I don't believe they said this to be mean, but statistically we have a small chance at winning.  There is about a 93% re-election rate of sitting congressmen (even if they are disliked).  The sitting congressman has name recognition and usually has more money.

    We have met some people who talk about the changes that need to be made, they talk about how unhappy they are with how things are now or where they see our nation going if things stay the same.  Yet they do not want to be the first to stand.  The term 'slacktivism' comes to mind, which is defined as merely a feel-good effort or sacrifice on the part of an individual that has little practical impact in actually helping the cause.  Steve will sit down in meetings with people who want to see change, people who ideologically agree with his beliefs and still will not help.  Why? They don't want their name on an FEC report, they don't think you have a chance at winning and would rather support a 'sure thing', they want to wait and see what happens, they want to see someone else step up first, they want to be your friend behind your back but not to your face because of who they might upset otherwise.

When Steve tells me about these meetings, I get upset.  The meetings seem a waste of time to me.  My husband just spent time away from home, money for gas and food, and lost time he could have used on some other more productive campaigning.  Besides the personal reasons I have to be upset, it seems backward to me. The founders of this nation set up a system where 'We The People' have the freedom to choose who we feel will best represent us.  How can some complain about how things are then support and re-elect the same person and expect things to change?  This is the definition of insanity, doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different results.  Making ads and printing materials and gas and staff and ... and... and this campaign costs money and resources and time and we can't do it on our own.  We weren't meant to do it on our own... that's kinda the point of community

One last thing I'd like to point out, that I think some have forgotten.  The current congressman in our race was once a no-name candidate who won his first race with basically no experience either.  Soooooooo.... 
What would happen if people put their money where their mouth is?  I heard a pastor say once that you can tell where a person's heart is by where their checkbook is.  What would happen if we all supported what we believed in?  If all the people who believe in Steve and his message helped in any way (not just financially) we would win.. I have absolutely no doubt about that.

I would like to thank the people who have stood behind us!  I don't know where we would be without you.  And a special thanks to those of you who think we have "a snowball's chance in hell" at winning and still support us with your time and your money.  It means so much to me, Thank You for being genuine and generous and for giving your time and resources to support the value you see in my husband... there are not enough words to express how grateful I am to you.

"Onward up many frightening creek, though your arms may get sore and your sneakers may leak. Oh! the places you'll go" -Dr. Suess

Daddy Dearest

My soul is going to be laid a bit bare for this post.  I am usually an open book, especially when asked so this isn't anything new or that I am ashamed of, it is just the first time that I have put it in print for the whole world to see.

This morning while getting ready for church my thoughts drifted to my dad.  I don't have many good memories of the man that raised me.  I don't think about him very often and thankfully when I do it no longer elicits feelings of hurt or resentment.  My dad wasn't very nice to me or my siblings.  To condense numerous stories into something shorter, my dad was verbally abusive to me.  I always felt as if I wasn't good enough, I wasn't pretty, I wouldn't ever make him or any other man happy, and that's just the way it was.  I never felt loved or accepted for who I was.  When my dad left our family, he told me that he didn't want me, he said I wasn't his anyway, so he disowned me.  I was 15 at the time, and completely shocked to find out that I was not my dad's biological daughter, not to mention the shattered heart that he left behind.  Certainly not my first brush with rejection, but at that time it was definitely the deepest.

Over the years, I tried to fill that place my dad had never really filled in various ways.  I am glad my mom made me go to church (after many fights) and I ended up getting involved there.  I have no doubt that it was my salvation on several levels.  I will be forever grateful to the men that stepped up in those years to lend advice, hugs, and shoulders to shed tears on.

Even after accepting Christ as my savior, I didn't fully grasp the depth of my heavenly Father's love.  I knew He loved me of course, for God so loved the world that He gave his only begotten Son, after all.  I was all good with Jesus, my brother, my friend, the one I ran too.  Yet, Father God seemed to be distant and scary, if I messed up and sinned (and I did a lot) would He still accept me?  I wanted to please Him so badly but never quite met the mark. 

What I did, I believe, is what most people do.  We equate our earthly fathers with our Heavenly Father and assume they are alike.  This is probably safe for some.  There are some amazing dad's out there, who treat their children as Christ would.  But for me, it created a wall that separated me from my Heavenly Father for fear of hurt and rejection.  Who wants to be rejected by the creator of the universe?

It wasn't until my late 20's and after divorce that I really started to understand how deeply my Father loves me.  I was hurting, and I felt dirty.  I was certain that the church would crumble around me when I set foot in it.  I took my kids because I felt it was the right thing to do, but I didn't feel like I belonged there.   I had done too much wrong, I was divorced, and I had stayed away from the church for too long; how could Father God just welcome me back?  

One Sunday, I was sitting in my seat while waiting for the service to start, a man who I trusted and know to be faithful to his word, started talking to me.  It was just friendly chit chat, he had been a leader in the church and God had called him elsewhere for a while.  I had met him before but thought it would have been rude to point that out.  It was nice to just talk to someone, as more people filtered into the sanctuary the conversation died and other people vied for his attention.  But then, just before service started he tapped me on the shoulder and said that he just had to tell me what God was saying to him about me.  He said that God told him that I carried His beauty.  My thought process after that is a jumbled mess.  How did God see me as beautiful, when I felt so ugly?  If I was carrying his beauty, I certainly wasn't doing a good job of it.  But, God doesn't lie... Ever.  So, it must be true.

It was a long journey but I finally agreed with my Daddy. Jesus is the way to the Father.  Jesus is one with the Father (jn 10:30)  I saw someone post on Facebook today that Jesus is the Father's selfie.  I didn't have a problem with Jesus, I know that He accepts me and loves me. And if Jesus feels that way, and he is a perfect picture of the Father then that means that my Heavenly Father feels that way too.  It feels good to call him Daddy, Papa God.  He loves me.  I am His favorite one.  When the prodigal son returned, his father didn't wait in the house with his arms crossed scowling at his son.  Luke15:20 says "But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him." He ran to his son!!  Can you imagine the prodigal son's face as he watched his father run toward him, arms open wide, compassion on his face, tears in his eyes, robe kicking up with each step.  That's what my Father did for me.  My Daddy sought me out, he played peek-a-boo around the walls I had built to keep myself safe.  My walls cracked and fell, nothing is a strong as the Father's love for us, not even the walls we build ourselves.   

Papa loves us so much.  He wants the best for us.  He wants to know us and hear about our day.  He knows and sees all that concerns you.  I encourage you to crawl up in your Daddy's lap and tell him about your day.  You don't have to be formal, you don't need the right words in a certain order using a special formula for him to listen.  Just be you.. he created you the way you are after all.. and that is enough for Him (ps 139:14-18).