We live in rural America. Most of our neighbors in the valley fly the flag, and someone has taken it upon themselves to hang flags from one end of town to the other. Every few years when they get a bit worn, they are replaced with new ones. I get it. It would seem reasonable to assume that Old Glory needs an upgrade now and then. That the flag we fly deserves to be intact, with bold colors that catch the eye, and crisp tight seams holding it all together.
Let me say this about that.
We fly the flag too. Over the years it has been whipped by the wind, drenched in the rain, covered with tiny ice crystals when the temperature drops, and bleached by the sun. I hadn’t noticed it until this morning, but as it danced to the wind gusts, it is starting to fray at the edges and tear at the seams. It looks to me a whole lot like our country feels. I know people on both sides of the aisle and issues, and many of us are wondering the same thing. Are we going to come out of all of this better, worse, or some version of same old, same old? Are we going to come out of it at all?
Let me say this about that.
The other night we had a small gathering in our home. A tight knit bunch of family and friends, some of whom lean left, some right, and all committed to staying together come what may. We don’t talk about politics too much, in fact hardly ever. Partly because there are other things to talk about that really matter too. But also, even among people who love each other as much as we do, it can be really scary to see things differently. And even scarier to try and talk about them in a way that doesn’t risk some fraying at the edges and tearing of the seams that hold a friendship or a family together. That night, everyone stayed in it. We listened. We asked. We challenged. Most of the time we handled ourselves pretty well, and occasionally we didn’t. When that happened, we’d fess up to how we’d blown it when it comes to having the kind of dialogue that maintains respect and curiosity. Vulnerability and authenticity were on display in an arena where armoring up and hiding behind ideological masks is often the norm. It was hard. It was good. It made us better.
There are forces hell bent on tearing us apart, and they are working. Families are being torn asunder, friendships are damaged beyond repair, and relationships are lost in the detritus of a political battle over which we feel we have little control. Long story short, our connection to one another is in danger of being torn to shreds.
Let me say this about that.
There’s a whole lot we can’t control. Staying connected to each other isn’t one of them. Nor is choosing curiosity over criticism, accountability over blame, and courage over anger. Whatever is going on in the big scheme of American things will depend on our willingness to come together, stick together, and work together for the good of an imperfect country that we all love. It will be hard. It will be good. It will make us better.
Our flag may be tattered. She might be fraying at the edges, and torn at the seams. But she is there, holding her stars and stripes together, reminding us that we can do it too.
