It was a new beginning.....

...I was in the fourth grade. We were getting a new student. That happened often, why was this time different? Why was the teacher giving us instructions on how to treat this new little boy? Then he walked in. He looked different than the rest of us.....and I'll never forget how scared he looked. Why would a little ten year old boy be scared to go to school?

Our school was an elementary school in a very small town. No stop lights, no high school. Everyone knew everyone else....and everything about them. People on their front porches waved to cars as they passed by.....they still do that. These were all things that made our town quite charming, really.

We lived on the top of a mountain. A beautiful mountain with tree lined roads, where overlooks provided breathtaking views of the valleys below, and where everyone who lived on this mountain had the same color skin.

....until that day in the fourth grade.

His mom looked like us, but his biological father, who wasn't in the picture, obviously didn't. I still remember going home and telling my parents we had a new little boy in our class and he was an indian. I don't remember if someone told us that or if I came up with the conclusion on my own, either way, I was clueless. My dad set me straight on the facts, but then went on to tell me not to treat this little boy any different than anyone else in my class, to make him feel like he belonged.

Our class quickly made friends with this charming little boy, who had the most beautiful smile, the most adorable dimples. He was just one of us. We went on to finish elementary school, and on to the high school a town away. We graduated and went on to live our lives.

I've always wondered what that little boy had to endure outside our sheltered classroom in that elementary school. At that time he didn't really "fit" into either race. White or black. I'm sure he has faced many difficult challenges in his life.

I still see him now and then, and he is still just as charming, with those same adorable dimples only now we compare pictures of our children and talk about "back when".

As I watched the election coverage into the wee hours of the night, the man I voted for didn't win. However, this morning I choose to begin praying for my newly elected president. I pray for God to guide his path, I pray that our new president will turn to my God in prayer for strength and guidance as he makes decisions for our country. I pray for his wife and two beautiful little girls as they begin their new and very public life.

I also can't help but wonder if this new president, whether or not he shares my beliefs, didn't grow up somewhat similarly to my childhood friend. Did they face some of the same challenges? I'm sure they did. I'm sure he felt like he didn't fit in to either race many times throughout his life.

For those children both then and now, I hope this victory is very sweet. I hope this helps move our nation forward in the quest started so many years ago not to see the color of someones skin, but to see their heart. I hope my sweet childhood friend who has grown into a kind successful man, claims his part of this victory. For he was truly a pioneer, though he probably didn't know it or want to be, simply by showing people in this tiny southern town kindness and friendship whether it was returned to him or not.

...I pray that this great nation moves away from seeing only faces, and toward seeing souls that need to know salvation through the blood of Jesus Christ. Because after all is said and done, that's all that really matters, and that's the kind of place I would love to raise my children in.

update: I just found this on the LPM blog. Every American needs to read it.
And, I heard this on Moody radio today:

"This election was not about elephants or donkeys but about The Lamb. Let us cry out to the Lord not cry out at each other."