Politics, Facebook, and the Presidential Election

I've wrestled and wrestled and wrestled with whether to write this or not. I have tried very hard not to get into the political fray. When I see someone post something about politics, especially something divisive or argumentative, I want to yell, figuratively and literally, "Can't we all just get along?"

I have tried to stay silent, bite my tongue, and ignore the hate-filled speech, the accusatory comments from both sides, the "If you are voting for ____ , go ahead and unfriend me now" statements that show up in my newsfeed every. single. day. From both political sides.

But I can't. I can't stay quiet, because I feel like this election, more than any other, at least since I've been alive, has brought out the worst in all of us. We've taken our stand, drawn our lines in the sand, and dared anyone to disagree with us. We've started arguments and canceled friendships, all in the name of trying to make other people think like us, believe like us, vote like us. We've used party lines to divide us.

Perhaps, in that sense then, both parties have already won. Or lost.

What is it about politics that makes it such an us-or-them mentality? Of course, we want our nation to do well, and of course we vote for people who most align with our beliefs. But what are we solving by highlighting our differences, instead of focusing on our common ground?

My friend Linda is a vegetarian. This week I've had beef and broccoli, a chicken burrito and a meatball.

I have friends who are anti-gun. My husband has a carry permit.

My friend Richard doesn't go to church. I'm there almost every Sunday.

My friend Beth is a stay-at-home Mom (and rocks at it, by the way). I bring in half of our family's income.

I could go on and on, but you get the point.

Why are we so focused on the things that divide us, instead of the things that unite us? What is that helping?

I am all for polite and civil discussion, even -- or maybe especially -- among people who tend to vote differently than I do. I genuinely enjoy hearing other people's point of view, but whether we have similar or different political views doesn't change how I feel about them as a person.

A funny thing happened during the last Presidential election. I happened to have lunch with a friend the day we both voted, so of course we discussed it. I asked her who she voted for, and she told me, and then she asked me, and I told her I voted for the other party.

Then you know what we did?

We laughed, and talked about something else. I would no more cease to be her friend because she had different political views, than I would because she spent her money differently, or liked different books than I did.

Also during the last election, I watched one of the debates between the Vice-President hopefuls, so between Joe Biden and Paul Ryan. As I was watching, I completely disagreed with almost everything one of the men said. I shook my head a lot, and frankly thought he was spewing a lot of garbage.

As I was watching, I was also scrolling through Facebook (because I can't ever just sit and watch TV), and a very, very, very dear friend of mine posted how proud she was of the man who I disagreed with.

If I had emailed her, or called her, or texted her, and said, "I can't believe you are supporting _____. If you keep supporting him, just stop being my friend now," I would have lost four years of a beautiful friendship that has blessed me, enriched my life, supported me and been priceless to me. I don't think any less of her because we are on opposite sides of the political spectrum. She is a selfless human being who gives of herself over and over again. Her political beliefs are just one tiny fraction of who she really is as a person.

It is my (very personal) opinion that social media would be a better place, a safer place, without any political comments. With that said, I do understand that people are passionate about their views, and want to share their thoughts, and perhaps social media is an appropriate place to do that.

But what if we stopped inciting while we shared our views? What if, instead of starting comments with "You conservatives all ..." or "All you liberals ..." we allowed for honest dialogue, and a safe place to disagree?

I'm not right on a lot of things, and I hope I'm always open to listening to opinions that are different than mine. But I can guarantee that when anyone says "You anything," I'm going to stop reading. It's inciting, it's accusatory, and it always -- ALWAYS -- feeds the problem instead of finding a solution.

Every Democrat, Republican, liberal, and conservative believes they are right. Shouting loudly that we are right and someone else is wrong only exacerbates the problem. I'll never listen to someone who is yelling. But, if someone can kindly and gently, without anger or malice, share their views on a topic -- any topic -- I'll gladly listen to whatever they have to say. Respect goes a long way in opening communication.

What if we tried kindness? What if we dared to see someone else's point of view? What if we stopped spewing insults at people who believed differently than we did? What if we stopped being angry?

If, for example, my friend Linda started out any comment by saying, "All you meat eaters should ...", I would immediately stop reading. But if she posted an honest comment about why she chose to stop eating meat, without claiming all meat-eaters were bad, or threatening to stop being friends with anyone who eats meat, I'm sure I would read it. And I'm sure I would consider her thoughts, whether or not it prompted any change in me.

We are solving nothing by fueling division, by constantly claiming one side is right and the other side is wrong.

How much better would life be if we focused on common ground instead of things that divide us?

Maybe we should try that.

I'm passionate about adoption. I am, and will always be, a fierce advocate for orphans, and I will continue to encourage others to adopt, and to fight for the children who need someone in their corner. I think far too few people consider adoption, which is why our orphan problem has spiraled out of control, with millions of children suffering as a result.

But who would listen to me if I started every Facebook post by saying, "All you selfish people who refuse to help the orphans ...?"

No one. Not one person would listen to what I had to say, nor should they. If I can't speak respectfully to them, I haven't earned the right to be heard.

We forget that what we post on social media is having a conversation with others. So unless I would go to my friends and colleagues, especially those who are of the opposite political party, and say right to their face, "You're being stupid if you vote ___," or "Can't you see how dumb ____ is?" or any other comments that fill my newsfeed, then I have no right to post it on Facebook.

Just because the Presidential race has gotten messy and ugly and barbaric, doesn't mean we have to join them. We can rise above it. We can be better. We can do better.

Regardless of what we say between now and Nov. 8, one party will be the winner, and one party will be the loser. And on Nov. 9, and for every day after that, for at least the next four years, we have to live with that choice. Whether the person I vote for wins the Presidency or not, I still want my friends.

That's what matter the most.

"If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone." ~Romans 12:18.

Happy Birthday To My Sweet Daughter

Happy 2nd birthday, Marella Hope Grace Thompson!!

Last year, we celebrated your birthday even though you weren't with us. But we ate cake and prayed for you, and dreamed that by your next birthday, you would be home.

And here you are. It's the best birthday present ever, for both of us. For all of us.

A few things about you: you LOVE LOVE LOVE your big brother, Reagan. You try to do what he does, play with his toys, and follow him wherever he goes. One of my favorite things is watching you when he comes with me to get you up in the morning. You giggle and smile and say your version of his name, which comes out more like "NA-nan," and open your arms wide for a big hug, always from him first. As big brothers go, you have the best.

You are also such a girly-girl. Having only had a boy so far, this has been fun for me. You like to watch me when I get ready, and by the time I'm done, you are wearing my lotion, my perfume, and my lipstick, and have played with all of my make-up brushes. Sometimes I catch you opening my purse and reaching into my make-up bag to get out my lip gloss. And often, especially after I've done your hair, you look in the mirror and say,"Pretty!"

Yes you are, sweet girl.

You like bubbles and playing outside. You like to eat. OK, that's an understatement. You love to eat, and you'll eat just about anything, but you have a particular fondness for bananas, noodles, bread, animal crackers, yogurt, and Miss Denise's peanut butter bars.

You have the BEST giggle. I wish I could bottle it up. You love having your belly tickled, playing peek-a-boo, and being held a lot. Although, you are also a fast runner (especially when Mommy is trying to catch you), and have adapted really well to a foot that's formed slightly different than the other one.

You also really love your Daddy. I'll be honest; I was a bit worried in India when you wouldn't let him even hold you, only because you hadn't really been around men before. You still cry when I leave you, but you start laughing again soon. Just the other day, we went for a walk and ran into Daddy driving home, and the rest of the walk you kept yelling, "Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!" He adores you, he always will, and he won't let you date until you're 30. Don't argue with him about it -- he won't change his mind.

You make us laugh sometimes at how quickly you can go from happy to sad. You hate the word "no," and will burst into tears if we say it, only to (usually) start laughing again a few seconds later.

I look at you often and marvel at how brave you are. You are so, so, so incredibly brave. Adults with a lifetime of living behind them could learn from you. The way you went from saying "No! No! No!" to us, this strange family to you at the time who came to take you from the only life you ever knew, to completely acclimating to us, is beyond my comprehension. You have a resilience and a tenacity that will take you far in this life.


I'll let you in on a little secret: all the books and the experts and the people who know more than us have said your adjustment is supposed to be a lot harder, on you and on us. But apparently no one told you that, because you just settled right in and became a part of our family, like you were always supposed to be here.

Because you were.

While you were halfway around the world, I like to believe -- I have to believe -- that our hearts were being knit together. My prayer, every day from the day we saw your face and knew your name, was this: "God, place a Thompson-sized hole in her, and a Marella-sized hole in us."

That prayer was answered 1000 times better than I hoped.

You are a gift to us. You have awakened in us a passion to help others in your situation find families who can save their lives, and change their destiny. Although, if I'm honest, I think you saved us as much as we saved you.

I'll tell you something I'm a bit embarrassed to admit: Reagan is at a really easy age, and I was worried that, when you came home, I would be frustrated by how much of my time you take, and work events and social events I would miss out on because of you.

I'm not proud to admit that, but it's true. But what I didn't count on, and perhaps what I couldn't know until I saw you, was how much of my heart you would completely take over. I thought perhaps it would take me a little longer to form the mother-daughter bond, and in the interim I would struggle a lot.

Princess (what we often call you), that's not how it is, at all. At least once a day (OK, usually more), I wipe away a couple tears at how fortunate I am to be able to raise you, to watch you grow. I feel like I've been given this beautiful gift, and I want to nurture it and protect it and guard it.

There are a lot of heroes in your story, too many to mention. Your daddy and I are not even on that list, and I'm being honest. The heroes are the people, some who are close to us, and some who know us from afar, who helped us bring you home. You have so, so many people who loved you before they knew you, and did everything they could to make sure we could get you as soon as possible. In many ways, your daddy and I have the easy job -- we get to watch you grow and spend our days with you. We get to live out the fruits of their labor. So many people love you, Marella. I hope you always know that, and feel that.

Being a mommy to you and to Reagan has been the best thing that has ever happened to me. I'd give up friends, I'd give up my job, I'd give up everything for both of you, and I wouldn't regret it, not even for a second.

I love you, Marella Hope Grace Thompson. I will spend every day of my life trying to show you. I will stumble. I will fall. I will make so many mistakes. But know this: I will always, always, always, always, always love you.

I'm so proud of you. You are brave and smart and mischievous and feisty and wonderful. I am learning from you. You are so deeply cherished.

Happy birthday, Princess.