My friend Wendy the Priest has said it better than I can:
I wasn’t going to say it here, but I’m up early
listening and reading,
and it feels like Christmas to me
because there’s a burn burn burn—
Can you feel it?
Can you feel the buzz of change?
It’s in the air. I keep tearing up.
I have goosebumps. And my stomach is in a knot.
I need coffee (to help with the knot, to wake me up). Then
I am voting for Barack Obama.
Because, at the end of the day,
I look at the story. I study the narrative. (It’s what I do.)
The narrative says more to me than any opinion,
The narrative says more to me than any campaign.
The narrative, the story
is the umbrella, the informant, the source.
And I believe his story.
That’s right, you heard me.
I. Believe. Barack. Obama.
(My father is rolling his eyes.
My brother is thinking,
“Oh shit. She really did drink the kool-aid.)
His story resonates with me and my idea of the American Dream.
It’s a story that speaks to the poor, the meek, the hungry, the peacemakers.
It gives the underdog power. (Sounds like The Gospel of Jesus Christ to me.)
It’s a story that ripples with humanity, community, charisma, and care.
Genuine care. And chances, options, respect, and grace.
(As opposed to fear, war, violence, and wealth.)
I can go in circles with you about Issues and Policies,
But I probably won’t. I’m not articulate enough.
Some might point out that I can "get emotional."
And I’m done with the Us/Them.
What I know for sure—
I know that I’m hooked. Hooked on Hope.
(It's pretty dang good kool-aid.)
Thank GOD for those who have gone before us—
Those that fought fought fought for my right to vote.