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5 Things Christians Can Do After the Election

5 Things Christians Can Do After the Election
Photo by Element5 Digital on Unsplash

On Wednesday, November 9th, we will wake up to a new president. Lord, have mercy. However the chips fall, the next four years will encompass a reality most of us probably would not have chosen. It’s easy to feel helpless in light of the future, but there’s still much that we can, and should, do.

  1. We can pray. I’ll be honest-I put off voting because I didn’t want to vote for either major party candidate. I have serious issues with both of them. But here’s what I know about both of them-God loves them, and he can redeem them. To say otherwise is to deny his power. Their souls are more important to Him than anything else about them, and they desperately need our prayers. So we can pray for our new president. We can pray for wisdom, guidance, humility, wise counsel, strength, and peace. We can pray for a heart responsive to His Spirit.
  2. We can respect our leader. Like I said, not a fan of either candidate, but I also recognize that being the president of the United States has to be the toughest job in the whole world. God asks us to respect everyone, especially our leaders (1 Peter 2:17), and that includes people we disagree with. We are called to love even our enemies, and love includes speaking well. So we can speak with the same respect and grace about the president as we would if that person were with us face to face, because it glorifies God.
  3. We can love our neighbors. This election cycle has caused so much division. Shame and vilification have happened left and right, even between people who claim to care for each other. I have hovered over the “hide this person’s posts” button on Facebook more than once. But at the end of the day, our call to love is greater than anything. So we can keep moving toward people who have offended us and see differently than we do, especially when they are fellow believers. Christ declared that the world would know we are Christians by our love. We can prove that true.
  4. We can be like Christ to the world. I’ve been immersed in the gospels lately, and what strikes me about Jesus’ interactions with this world is that non-religious people really liked him. And he really liked them. He went to where they were. He ate with them, accepted them, and then called them to something greater. His lead foot was love. We as the church have focused so much energy on changing laws instead of changing hearts. We can choose instead to imitate Christ. We can move toward people with grace, invite them to the one who loves them more than life, and trust him to change them in a way no law ever could.
  5. We can trust God. He never wrings his hands during election time, hoping we’ll choose the right leader. He uses all of this. He doesn’t need America to be a “Christian” nation for Him to work. In fact, the church is growing the most in places where the government doesn’t recognize religious rights at all. We can live not by fear but by faith and trust that his power and his Spirit are indomitable. We can rest in hope that whichever way this goes, His purpose for our world will continue.

This is an opportunity for us to respond differently than the world. And isn’t that what we are called to do? We can glorify God, love Him, and love others regardless of the outcome of this election. In fact, there may never have been a more opportune time for us to live this way. Let’s make the most of it.

Related posts:

Either/Or Thinking in a Both/And World 

Hope in a Broken World 

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Either/Or Thinking in a Both/And World

Either/Or Thinking in a Both/And World

Our daughter loved watching Once Upon a Time, a wonderful show about fairy tale characters stuck in our world. She often asked me, “Is he a good guy, or a bad guy?” She wanted to know, to be sure who to like or dislike.

I had watched further than her, so I knew – those characters surprise. They weren’t as clear-cut as we imagine. I had to keep telling her, (and I’m thankful that the characters evolved to prove my point) that people aren’t good or bad. Maybe the evil queen can love. Captain Hook can be sacrificial. Snow White can make poor choices.

Sometimes issues and people aren’t either/or.

But the thing is, we want them to be. Gravitating toward black and white thinking is easier because then we feel solid. We know where we stand. Drawing lines tells us who to include, who to ignore. We know where to put our energy into defending a stance. It feels safe. We think we’re winning.

It all feels sometimes like a giant game of tug of war. This side is right. No, this one is. Either you stand with me or you stand against me. There is no middle ground. Either my side is true, or yours is.

From a Christian standpoint, this feels right. Truth isn’t relative, is it?

The problem is that we draw the circle of absolutes much larger than God does.

We label people in a way He won’t. Jesus spent the most time with people our society would call “bad.” He called out the “good” people on their hidden sin. He doesn’t categorize us in black and white terms; he sees us for the glorious messes we are, the contradictions of our hearts. Jesus sees the both/and in us.

It’s challenging for us to hold those contradictions.

Easier to pretend some of them aren’t true. We write some people off because they are not worth our attention, time, compassion. They are either heroes or villains, either good or bad.

But to be both/and people means we need to open our hearts wider. We need to sit in peoples’ stories so we can know the white police officer who is just doing the best he can, and the black man who is tired of people assuming he just doesn’t respect authority.

We can ache for unborn babies at the same time that we are shocked by the ruthless killing of animals.

While we recognize that our systems are in need of reform, our hearts still break for the desperate who try to cross borders.

We can disagree with leaders and not vilify them. When we see people living “other” than us we know that we can still be “and.”

Let’s stop being either/or people in a both/and world. Drawing lines, taking sides-these keep us from moving toward one another with the gospel.

Let us be like Jesus, who sits with people in their contradictions, the mess, the ache of the world and its fallenness, and He loves. The good news is this – He cares about all of it. We can too.

Related:

We Are All Glorious Messes

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Seeing Further on Issues of Race

Seeing Further on Issues of Race

So, I’m white. I’m the kind of white where people make jokes about how blinded they are when my skin shows. Hilarious, really. Keep those jokes coming cause they never get old.

I grew up in a white, affluent town. I know there was one black kid in my elementary school, maybe more. There were a few Asians – two of them were my closest friends. As far as I could see, they weren’t treated any differently than me. As far as I could see.

The problem is, I couldn’t see very far. Racism was something that happened somewhere else, but it didn’t touch me there. I assumed that because I tried to treat people equally, I wasn’t part of the problem.

In the last few years, I’ve been involved in more and more conversations about race. It pains me that as a church, we are not the ones leading the way in talking about diversity, or in fighting to break down systems of racism. We should be. We are the ones who know that each of us is created in the image of our beautiful Creator. We are called to justice and freedom for the oppressed.

I’ve realized that we need to see further. Here’s how I’m learning to do that:

First, it doesn’t serve anyone to say, “I don’t see color.” I understand the sentiment behind this because for a long time I said the same myself. But I think of my Asian friends and how often they are asked where they are from, or are told how good their English is (though they were born in America). I think of my black friends, who get pulled over for driving in nice neighborhoods and asked what they’re doing there, or complimented for being “so well spoken” (as though that’s a surprise). I think of the stories I have heard from people of color of not being seen because they are in the minority, of imbalances of power and opportunity due to the color of someone’s skin. I need to know these stories, and enter in to the heartache of them. I must see what other people experience.

It doesn’t serve anyone to say that because I have lived in another country where I was a minority somehow I understand what it feels like to BE a minority. I spent 13 years in that position, and never did I feel I was treated poorly because of my skin color. If anything, I was envied. And if I did live in a place where I was hated because of my skin, I would have the power to leave. That’s a choice so many cannot make. It’s not about being the majority or minority culture, but about what culture dominates. Being white brings privilege. I must see my privilege.

Yes, we have privilege. It doesn’t serve anyone to deny the existence of white privilege. The very fact that we can ignore its existence is, in itself, a privilege. I never have to think about the fact that I am white. I never have to wonder if someone is treating me differently because of the color of my skin. Seeing my privilege reminds me that all is not equal. It helps me see where things need to change.

It doesn’t serve anyone to say, “If you just stay on the right side of the law,” or “if you just work hard and make the most of your opportunities,” you’ll do well. I’m seeing more and more that people can do everything right, but if you have the wrong color skin you can get pulled over for minor infractions and be killed. It is hard to admit that we have a system that has for compounded generations been biased toward the white majority; even harder to admit that I benefit from that system. I must see what that gives me that others do not have.

Racism grieves the heart of God, because all of us are created to be a reflection of His glory. We are all image bearers, every last one of us. He sees it all. I want to see what He sees.

We cannot stand at a distance and condemn obvious acts of racism, thinking we are absolved from the issues. We have to come close, to see how we are part of the problem, to hear the real stories of how racism impacts our brothers and sisters, and work for justice.

Silence is not neutrality. Silence is complicity. We can opt out of this conversation, but so many cannot. We need to opt in because God wants us together. We need to see further.

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The Extraordinary Childhood of a Third Culture Kid

The Extraordinary Life of a Third Culture Kid
photo by Gina Butz

I grew up on a corner lot with a huge backyard across the street from a giant park. The world was our plush, Kentucky bluegrass playground.

Our kids grew up surrounded by concrete. The nearest decent patch of grass was a solid mile away across a busy street.

One day, when they were littles, I lamented this fact to God. I felt like our kids were missing out on a “normal” childhood by being Third Culture Kids (TCKs). His clear response to me was, “Really, Gina? Your kids have ridden elephants in Thailand and climbed the Great Wall. They have been exposed to cultures and languages most people don’t see in their lifetimes. Is this not good enough?”

He made a strong argument.

photo by Gina Butz

Our kids never ate Cheerios or played little league or rode in car seats (yeehaw!). I always feared that their strange upbringing would be a source of distancing from friends here in the States. Instead, it seems to have given them some street cred.

Lately, our kids and their friends have shared more stories about this sad, grassless childhood with other kids  school which has led to one girl declaring that she wants to be adopted into our family so she can travel with us (perhaps she doesn’t know she could go on her own?). As the stories come out about exotic places they’ve been and lived, the admiration climbs. It led Ethan’s friend and fellow TCK to say to me one day, “I think I’m realizing I have lived a good life.” Yes, yes you have.

In lamenting the fact that I couldn’t give our children a “normal” childhood, in some ways I missed the fact that we were giving them an extraordinary one. No, they don’t exactly know what to do with a backyard, but they can navigate an airport on their own. They can’t tell you how an American baseball game is played but they have road tripped between countries.

Being a Third Culture Kid comes with its gaps in experience, but the experiences they have are so incredibly rich that I wouldn’t trade them. I’m thankful that our kids spent their formative years in other cultures. More than that, I’m so thankful that they consider it a blessing as well.

Related:

You Got That Kid Americanized Yet?

A Different Childhood

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The Words that Linger

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People often ask me if I am fluent in Mandarin. The short answer is “no.” To me, fluency means “I can say everything in that language” by which definition all those people who say they are fluent in Spanish after their 4 years of high school classes are mistaken.

I cannot say many things in Mandarin, like ceiling or fertilizer or thumb tack. Never needed to. But I would call myself “functionally fluent” which means I could talk about that wall above me, or the stuff to put on the ground to make the plants grow, or a small thing to make my paper hang on the wall. I am a master at talking around the word I don’t know, like a linguist game of $10,000 Pyramid.

Despite my lack of fluency, there are certain words that I adopted during our time overseas which I may never lose, as they have become part of my vocabulary. I thought I’d take the time to share them today, just for fun. And they are:

加油：(pronounced ‘jah yo’) This literally means ‘add oil.’ It’s the Chinese way of cheering people on. Like ‘you’re competing in the Olympics? 加油!’ or ‘Your husband is gone for how long? Bummer. ‘加油!’ (you can guess which of those applies to me).

不好意思: (boo how ee suh) We were taught this means ’embarrassed’ but it’s more than that. It’s the catch all word for ‘this situation is awkward for me, and probably for you too.’ There were lots of ‘bu hao yi si’ moments overseas. I seem to have them here too.

麻烦: (mah fahn) Ah, ‘mafan.’ Maybe my favorite word. It means ‘inconvenient’ or ‘troublesome’ but saying those long words is too mafan, so we say this.

那个谁: (ney guh shay) This is the colloquial way to say, ‘What’s his face.’

厉害: (lee high) Ah, ‘lihai.’ There’s just no English equivalent. It means ‘intense’ or ‘serious’ or ‘powerful’ but in a good, striving for excellence kind of way. Like, ‘he studies 6 hours a night? Wah, he’s so lihai!” said with admiration.

就是这样: (jiew sure jay yahng) ‘That’s just the way it is.’ Like when you finish cutting your husband’s hair and know that’s the best you’re going to do, you say, ‘jiu shi zhe yang.’

快点儿: (kw-eye dee ar) As parents, we often employ the phrase ‘hurry up.’ I prefer to use the Chinese version, “kuai dianr!” (with my best northern accent, adding r to the end). My kids always respond, “I’m kuai dianr-ing!!” They’re just as annoyed with it in Chinese as in English, maybe more so.

These are some of the ones that linger. They tend to come out in conversation here, even with those who don’t understand, but now that you know them you can join in with me!

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No Substitute for Relationships

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Truth be told, I’ve started dreaming of the day when we say to one another, “Remember when social media was so popular? Yeah, that was nutty. Thank God it’s over.”

Realistically, I suppose it never will be, but lately I’ve found myself so aware of the downside of these interactions. They are communication rich but relationally poor. Yes, I know what is happening in the lives of people I would otherwise probably never contact (and many of them I would like to contact) and that’s maybe the reason I don’t quit altogether.

But it’s also become the equivalent of an increasingly crowded party where people fight for air time, value is measured in likes and retweets, a marketplace for comparison and shaming. Comments that seem witty on Twitter if said aloud in company to a person’s face would be unacceptably rude. It’s an environment where there is little accountability for the impact of our social interactions. People talk about being in “community” online, but it falls so short of what true community looks like.

Sometimes social media feels like a train rushing off somewhere to interesting places, and we’d better hop on or we’ll lose out. But the reality is that there is nothing new under the sun – that train is just circling the block over and over again, only in greater volume and with stronger opinions than before. What would happen if we shut down the noise? What if tomorrow Facebook and Twitter and Reddit and Tumblr and Instagram ceased to exist? Would we lose anything? Or would we gain?

I wonder if it would give us space to connect with people again, really. It might force us to call those people we wouldn’t see on Facebook. It would blow away the chaff of unnecessary information and opinions that are thrown out there. It might force people to be accountable for their words again.

I’m not saying social media cannot be used for good. I just want to remind all of us not to let it be a substitute for true connection. Like someone who snacks all day and never takes in a full meal, we can waste all our relational energy on surface connection and never reach true depth with others.

There is no substitute for real relationships. What we need is not one more person to validate our opinions or like our activities. We need people who linger with us for more than 140 words. We need people who will call us on what we say and how we say it. We don’t need the world to tell us our worth. We need real people. We need real interactions. There is no substitute.

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The Real Me

It happened yesterday at the dentist. I was myself. I mean, really truly, like just how I would be if I were with someone I’d known forever. I was chatty. I made witty comments. They laughed. It felt comfortable, and normal, and I thought, “Hey, I’m being me! With people I just met!” This is progress.

You’d think I’d always be me – isn’t everyone? – but I’m still getting there. A friend of mine here reminded me lately that when someone has gone through a major transition, you should assume for the first year that you don’t really know the real them.

Ah, how true.

It was good to hear that again because I know that my traditional transition stress reaction is withdrawal. I usually don’t realize I’m doing it until people make comments like, “Gosh, I thought you were so reserved and quiet, but . . . ” (It’s ok, go ahead and finish that thought, “but you’re actually kind of goofy and don’t stop talking.”)

The first time I did it was when I got married, and everything in my world changed – new city, new job, new home, new roommate, new church, new friends. I met one of my good friends that year, and she thought I didn’t like her the whole year. Meanwhile I was saying to my husband, “I really like her! I hope she’ll be my friend!” Sigh. I had no idea.

Since then I’m at least aware of it (the first step is admitting you have a problem). I think I am doing better here, but I think it’s partly because there are people I am myself with because they already know me. Or people who are just so inviting they make me want to show up all at once. There are others though who still think I’m the quiet type. Just wait, I want to say. A person who has just gone through transition is a bit like a new house plant. You can give it the best environment, but it’s probably going to wilt a little at first. Give it time. It’ll perk up. Pretty soon the real Gina will show up and the “I just played Dizzy Lizzy* with my life and I can’t walk quite straight” Gina will fade away. I’m still just a little shell shocked and not so sure of myself here so I shut down the non-essentials and just focus on getting through. I’m triaging. But as we say in the middle kingdom, “yue lai yue” – it’s coming gradually.

Like at the dentist. The prospect of major dental work somehow drew me out. Who knew?

*Dizzy Lizzy, for the uninitiated, is a game in which you place your head on the top of a baseball bat, spin around several times while maintaining contact with the bat, and then attempt to walk toward a destination in the distance. It seems like it should be so easy but it is hard. Very, very hard. Like, “walk sideways until you fall down while your friends laugh hysterically” hard. But oh so fun.

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You Got That Kid Americanized Yet?

I had to explain juice from concentrate to our kids today. I guess it just wasn’t high on my priority list, while we lived overseas, to introduce frozen juice to them. Actually, it probably just wasn’t available. It’s one of many gaps they have in their “American education.” I knew they’d be there; I just didn’t know where. They’re learning about frozen juice and soccer games and commercials and all sorts of things they didn’t have in Asia. If only that were enough.

If only it were enough to “Americanize” them. Someone honestly asked me that question the other night, “You got that kid Americanized yet?” My response was, “He will never be American.”

No, I realize our kids DO have American passports. Yes, they are American. But please understand that our kids, and any kids who have spent significant parts of their childhood outside of the U.S. will never see it the way we do, and it does a disservice to them not to recognize it.

Imagine if your parents were German, but you were born here in the U.S. Then one day, your parents pick you up and take you to Germany and say, “You’re home.” Would you feel at home? Even if you knew the language and looked German, you wouldn’t feel it the same way.

Over time, our kids will learn how to “be” American, but keep in mind that kids who have had the blessing and the challenge of spending formative years in another culture are forever changed by that experience. They see things differently.

I guess what I’m hoping for is that people don’t expect that our kids basically “get over it.” That they leave behind their expat upbringing and become like everyone else. That won’t happen, and I don’t want it to happen. After all, aren’t we who are Christians citizens of another kingdom? This world is not our home. Why try hard to make it feel that way?

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Do you miss Asia?

People often ask me if I miss living in Asia. I really don’t know how to answer this question, because what comes to mind is the pollution this year that has been so high it’s unmeasurable by the current systems. Obviously I can live without that. I miss friends terribly, but several of them have also left in the last year as well, so I know that life there would be very different now. I confess I find America a little boring at times – I go to the store and nothing weird happens, ever. Is that enough to make me miss being an expat? No. I can make my own weird.

We spent time recently with friends we knew in Singapore. We talked about how, initially, my friend missed it so much after moving back here that she just wanted to go back to Singapore, but the reality was, it wouldn’t be the same. We agreed that what we miss wasn’t necessarily the place itself, it’s the intangibles.

It’s things like community. I miss meeting people for the first time and being dear friends with them a month later, because that’s how things work overseas. I miss bonding like soldiers during war time, hunkering down together when the waves of living cross-culturally are too rough.

It’s feeling competent, knowing how to be an adult in the place where you are. I don’t know how to own a house. I don’t know the norms of being a parent in America. One day I will figure out this DVR thing.

It’s being known and understood, having routine, being more comfortable being the only white face than looking like everyone else. These are the things I miss, because they are the things I think we all desire from anywhere we live (except maybe the white face thing. That was just our normal).

I had those things. I miss having them. I know I’ll gradually get them back, over time, for the most part. So do I miss Asia? Let’s just say “I miss that life.”

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Libraries as God Intended

It amazes me, shocks me, really, that I have been in Orlando a full month and, until today, had not found the library. I have heard it calling me all this time, “Gina . . . I have books . . . books from your GoodReads list . . . come and play!” But I’ve been busy doing a million other things. Plus I planned for this like some people planned for Y2K by bringing a stack of unread books with me.

So I wasn’t desperate, but I was feeling a little incomplete without a library card, so I loaded the super happy kids in the car (they have books to read too so they really didn’t want to go) and drove to the main branch in downtown Orlando.

As I did, I reflected back on my library experience of the last 13 years. Mostly it was non-existent because eight years of Asia we were in China which had no libraries. In Singapore we were blessed to have a children’s library (yes, they have a whole children’s library chain throughout the country) one block from our house and main library locations all over town. The downside of libraries there was that they are not free. It is also easier to vote in America than it is to obtain a library card in Singapore, although I guess that’s not saying much.

So I’m excited that now I live in a place that has several library locations and is free – the best of both worlds. Better still, we’d heard a rumor that they will not only transfer books from one location to another for you, but they will actually deliver books to your door, and it’s true! Finally – libraries as God intended!

I’m off to order my books.

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