I’ve responded to the election of Donald Trump like a death. On November 8th, I went to bed in denial thinking that maybe I’d wake up, and it would have been a bad dream. Then I was angry that people would vote for someone I considered unfit for the most important job in the world. Next, I was willing to bargain with the courts in Michigan and Pennsylvania to do a recount. And finally, I was just depressed.
I can’t hide in my liberal California bubble, praying that God does indeed cause an earthquake splitting my state from the rest of the country.