At two in the morning on the day of the election I woke up feeling like I was riding on a collective wave of joy – like I was part of a cosmic celebration. I hadn’t had that feeling before an election since… well, I don’t think I’ve ever had that feeling before an election, so I took this feeling as a good sign – as a sign that everything was going to go as I hoped it would.

And when things didn’t go as I hoped, I found myself in a crisis, wondering if everything I believe about the power of Love and Truth is a lie. Wondering if there really is a God.

What was kind of odd, though, was that – even as I was having these dark thoughts – I could feel Love with me, loving me. But I turned away from that sense of Love-with-me and tossed and turned for a while before I finally got to sleep.

Here’s what happened today:

– The youngest son called to see how I was doing and just hearing his voice through the line – and hearing his wife’s laughter in the background – lifted me up.

– I decided to go for a hike at Lake Padden. On the way I pulled over, and put my emergency lights on, to take a picture of a reflection on Lake Samish. Before I even got out of the car, another car did a u-turn and the driver – a twenty-something with piercings on her face, and a kind smile – pulled in behind me to check on me and make sure I was alright. I was so grateful for her kindness in stopping to check on me! I felt myself lifted up a bit more.

– As I sat at a picnic table at Lake Padden, a little dog named Lock trotted over to me for a pet on his back. He sat with me for several minutes as I petted him, every now and then looking up at me with a look of pure love on his face. It was like having my own emotional support dog there, comforting me with his sweetness.

– I passed a woman named April, with her dog, Aspen. Like Lock, Aspen approached me for a scratch behind the ears. And when April and I got to talking we realized we were both processing the same election shock. Pretty soon we were joined by Judy, who also was dealing with election trauma. We gave each other a group hug, and then Judy let us know that there was a young woman sitting up at the picnic table who was struggling. So April and I (and Aspen) went to join the woman at the picnic table. She was wearing a gay pride rainbow hat, and she was soon joined by two friends who let us know they were from the LGBTQ community. The woman in the rainbow hat and her friends were all feeling scared and abandoned by their country. April and I let them know that they aren’t alone – that we’re standing together with them.

– When I got home I clicked into Facebook and found my friend, Jay Bowen, had posted a post about a vigil being held at the Burlington Lutheran Church. So I zipped my jacket back on and headed for the church.

I hadn’t really cried, yet, but as soon as I entered the church I felt tears welling up in my eyes, and by the time I’d seated myself on a pew I was quietly sobbing and shaking – I hadn’t know that was in me until then. A woman in the pew ahead of me turned around and it was Becky! – a parent of one of my former eigthh graders. Becky went up to the first pew and grabbed a box of tissues for me and then came back and gave me a hug. Not long after I saw Becky, I recognized another friend, Kaci – who was seated in the second row. I approached Kaci and touched her arm, and when she turned around and saw me, her eyes opened wide and she reached out for a hug. We cried healing tears together for a couple of minutes, before I returned to my pew.

The speakers in the Lutheran church spoke of allowing people to mourn in their own way; spoke of the courage and endurance that have overcome tribulation in the past; spoke of the importance of community and family; spoke of the importance of appreciating every breath and moment; spoke of not letting ayone take our smiles and humor; and spoke of a loving God whose intent isn’t to bring us doom, but to bring healing to us and through us.

It was comforting to be with other people today who were dealing with the same things I’m dealing with.

And now, sitting here, I realize the message the Cosmos has been sending me all day: “You are not alone. The world is full of people (and pups) who care. You are loved.” And maybe that’s all the reason I need to celebrate with the Cosmos. Maybe the wave of joy I felt early in the morning on election day had nothing to do with the election, and everything to do with divine Love. Love is not dependent on human circumstances, and we can never be separated from it.
-Karen Molenaar Terrell