The morning after Donald Trump became President-elect, I met my mother-in-law and pastor at our church. I prayed with my mother-in-law in that old brick building, knowing full well that her vote had cancelled mine the day before.
She prayed that Jesus would make himself known to Donald Trump, bringing him to repentance and humility, and that people would not gloat in Trump’s victory because victory belongs to God. I prayed by name for my friends who may face deportation in the coming months, for Muslim friends, for survivors of sexual assault and harassment, for people who fear that their families and marriages are in danger. Our pastor prayed for all who are afraid and hungry for a love and security that only Jesus can fill. We prayed together for the church, in tears. We allowed ourselves to hear and carry the other’s petitions to a God whose love is deep and wide enough to receive it all.
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