I still don't think I've fully grasped the significance of what is about to occur in this country.
Oh trust me, I understand, it's just something I don't feel I can summarize it eloquently enough.
There's just so much that I'm processing right now. Since November I attended the most significant event of my life, I've embarked on a journey of personal reflection on peace and justice. I haven't really blogged it out, but it's swelling and moshing around in my brain. The election, the trip to India, visiting the Gandhi memorials, traveling to Sarnath, reading Fr. John Dear's autobiography A Persistent Peace, paying attention to the causes of other local bloggers, getting angry about Prop 8, seeing Milk yesterday--it's been a lot to digest. And I'm not sure where I'm going with any of it.
But I do know that I am going to cry tomorrow.
Bawl like a baby. My eyes are welling up just thinking about the momentousness of it all.
I realize that Barack Obama is just one man. I realize that he has flaws. I realize that today's political environment may not allow for the sweeping reforms of another FDR, or even programs like JFK proposed.
But I also realize that he is the physical representation of what so many people fought and died for.
That is what I feel so blessed to see in my lifetime. I can't even fathom what people in my parents and grandparents' generation who actually witnessed the birth and execution of the civil rights movement are feeling.
No matter what occurs in the next four or eight years, we are light years ahead of where we were four or eight years ago.
But we can't quit fighting.
While January is much colder than April (when presidents were formerly sworn in), it's great to be able to welcome the first president of African descent the day after we celebrate MLK day. I got goosebumps listening to his address!
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