The political post that isn’t (I voted for Trump)

Categorized as Rhonda's Posts

I voted for Donald Trump.

There. I said it.

I could list the reasons. Things like national security and protecting our borders. Lowering taxes and boosting business. Respect for our military and those who wear blue, for being a friend to Israel. That matters to me.

For all the voices that shout at Christians who voted for him, reviling and condemning, the fact is that the other party has glaring faults, too. It was the Clintons, after all, who raped and seduced, then covered it up and played scorched earth on the victims in their long, awful wake. What happened in the Oval Office doesn’t bear speaking about in polite society. No, it doesn’t, especially for those of us who have girls in our lives that we love.

God up above, have mercy. And quick.

Sometimes in the quietness of my own thoughts, I wonder if King David himself could’ve won an election given his own checkered past. Adultery, then murder and a coverup that followed. Which wasn’t, mind you, effective for it all came out in the end.

It’s in print.

King David with his crimes and his multiple wives and his mood swings and praise and despair. Trump isn’t David, but they were both human, and God did call him His friend. Read the Book.

In the small and limited framework of my own human mind, this is astounding, unreal. Almighty God sets up kings and dethrones them, and He chooses the sinful and messy. The unqualified. And the unqualified here in our land? We help with choosing.

The sinful and messy vote for the sinful and messy. We sure do need Living God, that is clear.

BUT. The actual point of this post is not a political one. Not even close. The reason I’m writing today is to face one of my biggest, most terrible tormentors; that being, the fear of others’ opinions.

For 51 years, I have been held in captivity to this fear. For nearly all of those 51 years, I have begged and pled and cried out to God and prayed and fasted and “cast out the spirit of fear” and stood on the promises and tried for greater faith, and still. That horrid, old fear chain.

In recent days, I have come to know the truth of Psalms 91 as never before, “He that dwelleth in the secret place of the Most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty.” For seven days, I marched around the perimeter of The Three in silence, feeling naught but the presence of Living God, and I marched so that the walls would come down.

On those silent, solitary walks, I could feel the Presence, and those words from the psalm, they enfolded. “He shall cover thee with His feathers, and under His wings shalt thou trust. His truth shall be thy shield and buckler.”

Today, I know that it’s time. I know now the power and the peace of being secure beneath those great wings, and it’s time that I run toward the roar. Face the lion, for the lion’s been de-fanged and defeated. Here I go.

I did vote for President Donald Trump and Vice President Mike Pence. This spring, they came to town. Here’s what happened, a story I’ve not yet told publicly, but today’s the day.

With great excitement, the venerable Mr. Schrock, The Cub, College Kid (our political science major), and I got our tickets, then waited in line for two hours with thousands of other Americans. Walking into the gymnasium, we were making our way around the upper deck when all at once, we came up behind a young woman in a black suit. She was a Trump staffer, and she was clearly directing traffic.

She stopped, turned around (I thought to direct us somewhere else), and at once, she looked at us. Really looked, and then said this, “I’m going to put you in the front row. I want your boys to wear these hats.” And stooping, she snatched up two bright-red MAGA hats and passed them over. Turning to a young gentleman in a suit (another staffer), she said, “Put them down in that front row.” And there we went.

We followed him over to a packed section directly behind the stage. Seat after seat full, packed with people. All except…

The front row. Which he ushered us to, and then left.

Front row seats.

In that cheering, roaring throng, we all felt it. The favor and smile of the Lord. We were beaming.

The next day in morning stillness, I remember saying to God, “What. Was that. About?” And very quietly and simply, these words, “I just want you to know that I can put you anywhere I want, any way I want, and all you had to do was show up.”

Since that raucous, inspiring night in a gym on Elkhart’s north side, I have had the opportunity to speak with Rush Limbaugh. Four times. And every single time, my phone call has been transcribed and put up on his website. Someone came up to me in public recently and said, “You should be playing the lottery,” for that’s how unlikely it is. And I’m laughing because that was after the third time. (Remember? Four?)

It was a bit surreal, seeing Rush and President Trump on stage together at the final rally before the election. In the photo, President Trump is leaning forward, whispering in Rush’s ear. And a friend, when she saw it, said, “You’ve ‘whispered’ in that ear four times.”


It takes almost as much courage for me to tell you that I listen to Rush, that I love Rush, that I call Rush, that I talk to Rush as it does to tell you that I voted for Donald Trump. But I refuse to let fear have that hold on me anymore. I am willing to be friends whether or not you are. That’s up to you.

But this is me. I am free. I’m under the wings. No looking back.

Beneath a low’ring sky, her boots chuff, chuff, chuff through the muck. She feels the chill breeze in her face; His fresh, pure breath in her lungs as she marches around once, twice, on to seven. Raising her courage flag, quite like a trumpet, she says it out loud, “It is finished.” And walls fall down.

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