I'm writing this post from that edge, as I stand with all of you. Will we fall into an abyss when we step off into tomorrow, or will we fly?
I can tell you this. I have hope. I've never had this kind of hope about something that is so un-personal. In truth, it is personal though, isn't it? This affects everything.
I haven't been sleeping well lately. And I think I've been listening to too much NPR. I'm addicted to talk, to that constant flow of information, to that hash, hash, and re-hash that I make so much fun of after football games. I need to hear what everyone has to say. I need to hear it so I can try and figure out what they're thinking. Where is the pulse of America? Who has her or his finger on it? What's it telling us? And is it the true pulse or the one your high school gym teacher told you not to take... you know, when you put your thumb to your wrist and feel a crazy pulse?
I have a lot of anxiety about tomorrow. I have a lot of anxiety about what will happen after tonight even if what happens is what I want to happen.
I went in to my children's bedroom tonight to check on them. I looked at them and prayed that what happens tomorrow will be the right thing for them and all of their generation.
I am posting from the edge.
Tomorrow, I hope to be flying.
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