Standing in Line to Vote

I had the best time standing in line to vote the other day. Which is strange, considering I went to the wrong location and waited in line for an hour, only to be sent to another location. Apparently, I’d been re-zoned, and nobody remembered to tell me. Or if they did tell me, I wasn’t listening.

But none of that really mattered, for as I waited in line, I saw several of my friends that I don’t get to see very often. We chatted and sipped our coffee, just like we’d made the appointment on purpose. And even the people I didn’t know when I got in line became fun acquaintances by the time I left. We snickered about the empty candy machines somebody should have filled before Election Day. We tweeted and face booked about how everyone seemed to be tweeting and face booking about his or her voting experiences.

But you know what was really cool?

Not one person asked me whom I was voting for. Not one single person. We laughed and smiled and talked about our kids and our cars and the weather, and everyone seemed to genuinely enjoy the process.

Now, I’m not naive enough to think that all those nice people around me voted for the same person as I did. But isn’t that what we tell ourselves sometimes? The nice, smart, intelligent people are the ones who think like we do. The dumb, socially backward, mean, awkward people are the ones who voted for the other guy. Right?

Right?

Be honest.

Since we’re being honest here, I’ll just tell you the truth. My guy didn’t win. And I’m really disappointed about that. But rather than hang my head and grumble about the results, I’m holding my head high. I’m proud to live in a country where we can all be so different, and yet the same. I’m proud to live in a nation where my voice is heard. And I’m also proud to live in a nation where the other guy’s voice is heard, even if I don’t like what he says.

And most of all, I’m proud to live in a place where our sameness bonds us together, in spite of our differences. I don’t think I saw one person, standing in that line the other day, who wouldn’t fight to defend our country’s freedom, no matter what it took.

The whole election process reminded me of an important truth, though. My citizenship here in the grand old U. S. of A. is temporary. One day, I’ll move to another place . . . the place of my permanent citizenship. In that place, there won’t be any long voting lines. There are no elections, for its ruler is also permanent. God, the King of Kings and Lord of Lords is a merciful, compassionate ruler, gracious and loving, generous and kind.

And the economy there is out of this world! We’re talking, streets of gold, people. And each citizen of that place will have his or her own room in the king’s house . . . a room prepared by the Prince himself. And when we arrive, we’ll be crowned and welcomed, not as mere citizens, but as part of the king’s own family.

I know all these things because the king Himself told me so. Yep. He wrote me a long letter, called The Holy Bible. The more I read it, the more excited I get about all the good things waiting for me. Plus, I already have access to much of the king’s treasury, right here, right now.

Read for yourself. You can have access to it too.

“The Lord has established His throne in heaven, and His kingdom rules over all,” Psalm 103:19.