And now, there's that...

And now, there’s that…

            I am so tired of political posts, election commentary, and, well, to be honest, social media! I cannot open any social account without being bombarded with different peoples political opinions backed up by the ever-so-reliable and varied internet “news” websites. If it wasn’t so extreme and laced with near hate, it would be humorous. But, truthfully, it is so far from humorous, entertaining, and even informing on anything except the person doing the posting. I have seen people completely forget the example that they should be putting forth because they have been sucked into the vacuum which is the current American political climate.

            And this is why I have waited so long in doing anything like this but as a Pastor and someone who tries so hard to follow Jesus’ example, I believe this is necessary. We live in a truth-lite age. Truth is so absolute that there is a movement to remove all truth from our society. If you were born with a penis and testicles, you were born a male. That is truth. Even though our society and even our government says that how you feel trumps who you really are, you are still a male. As I hear my dad and others that are in their late 60’s, I am confident that there are days that I feel 67 years old. But I am also confident that my government will hold me to the date that is on my birth certificate much more strictly than they are holding us to the sex that is just across the page from the date. Confusing isn’t it?

            There are many things that I would like to speak to but honestly the main reason I am writing today is two-fold. One, to introduce you to my grandson. Two, to remind you of what many people in our society think of him, even though they haven’t met him.

            So, first things first. Say hello to Bryant Sawyer Bumbalough! In this picture he is a whopping 29 weeks into his life here on earth.

We have high hopes for him. We already have sooooo many pictures of him. Tammy has one of the first pictures of him framed and on her desk at work. I kinda feel sorry for him when he is no longer protected by his mother’s belly. He will be like a celebrity in his own family. He will be a first! First child, first grandchild, first great grandchild. He doesn’t stand a chance.

            Kelcey is at 37 weeks now and I have sat in the birthing triage with her listening to his heartbeat and listening to him move. During these times, Kelcey and I have had somewhat deep conversations about life, faith, and because of where we are in today’s world, politics. You should understand at this point in our time here, I have never been involved in national politics. As Kelcey and Jordan were growing up we didn’t share much with them without being questioned about politics, other than the fact that you need to vote. Don’t disrespect the tens of thousands that have lost their life to secure our right to have a voice. Keep this in mind as I continue.

            While we sat there, listening to the all the noises that my daughter’s son was making, she asked this question, “Daddy, how can anyone say that this is just a fetus and not a real baby?”

            She went on without interruption to talk about hearing his heartbeat for the first time and then the ultrasounds where they measured his legs, saw that he was a boy, and then the 3D ultrasounds where they actually saw him put his hand over his face. And as she talked with affection about her son and we both kind of dreamed about what life was going to be like, I found myself getting angry. I mean, I have to go and pray, angry!

            And my anger, at that moment, was unfiltered and ugly. I wanted to be a moron Facebooker and post the most vile, hateful, seething posts about people who supported abortion, and Democrats, and hippies who were clueless talking and texting and posting straight out of their … but thankfully I didn’t. I took some and time, I prayed, and I tried to put some thought into what I really wanted to communicate. And here it is.

            I just have to ask the question, “How could you?”

            How could you support killing my grandson? How could you justify voting for someone who would try to legitimize killing my grandson. I understand that if you do, you don’t believe that he is a real person. He is a fetus, right? A fetus that has every characteristic that a person has, and every organ that a person has, hands and feet, big lips and chubby cheeks, as well as a heartbeat that beats consistently at 140 or so beats a minute. How could you? Take, politics out of it. Take religion out of it. Take race out of it.

So, the bottom line for me is this. When I vote, the deal killer (no pun intended) is abortion. A candidate’s stand on foreign policy is important but not as important as abortion. What a candidate says about taxes, and gun legislation, and the TPP isn’t on my radar after I find out about their stand on abortion. If you want to vote your pocketbook or your party line then go ahead because you are free to do so. But this is bigger than politics. If you can walk into a voting booth and pull the trigger for a candidate that believes that until my grandson’s geography changes (inside my daughter or out), he is expendable and only tissue, you should really ask yourself what is most important to you. Because it doesn’t seem to be faith, and love, and life!

I won’t be voting for Hillary just as I didn’t vote for President Obama. It has nothing to do with the fact that she is a woman or he is a black man or that there is a (D) in front of their name. It has everything to do with both of them supporting an act in my lifetime that should be banned! Before you vote for her, research what she says about abortion. See where she says that our laws currently do not protect or recognize the rights of a “person” (I bet she got in trouble for using that word) until they are born. And that she will work to ensure that this doesn’t change.

I am not supporting or endorsing any candidate until I vote. I am confident that neither candidate would qualify to teach a Sunday school class. But, I guess my hypocrisy only goes so far and I will not support someone, anyone, who supports murder.

I pray for the answer on the day when my grandson asks me, “Papaw, how did your generation think this was ok? Any of this?”

Maybe you have a good answer!

Have a great week!

Pastor Dad (Granddad, Papaw, Poppa, I really don’t care, I’m just ready to meet him)