First you take the drug, and then the drug takes you. This didn’t happen to everyone in America; but it happened to America herself. And it was predictable. At first, our flirtations with the drug called Trump were fun! The drug called Trump was sometimes rude and often crude; but it was entertaining. It made us laugh. It made us cry. It made us sigh. It made us high.
Then came the denial. We thought that this drug called Trump couldn’t possible take over. We had willpower. We had might. We were right. He was wrong. The temporary high wouldn’t last for long. Enjoy it while we can, we thought, before it wears off. But then the drug dealers with nicknames like “Fox” sold us massive doses for next to nothing. Or so we thought.
The drug called Trump told us it would build a wall between us and “other people” who were threats to our security. They were out to get us. They would deprive us of what we need. Our addiction was their problem. We would make them pay. So we distanced ourselves from neighbors and friends. We saw the enemy without, but not the enemy growing within. But the wall around us that the drug called Trump was building did not wall others out as much as it walled us in. And our minds, our bodies, and our covenant with others grew very, very thin. But we will win! We can make America Great Again as long as we keep taking the drug, the Higher Power called Trump.
At first we thought the wall around us that kept us safe and secure would be paid for by someone else. But then the drug called Trump calmly informed us that the cost would be our own. By then, that made sense. After all, we are into the drug deeply now. We have become too much of a pickle to go back to being a cucumber. We have to stand by our drug called Trump because it was duly elected to lead us wherever it wants us to go.
We will soon have to mortgage everything to pay for the demands of the drug, but that’s okay. We can divert money from our clothing allowance, dental visits, church donations, social service agencies, and if need be ~ our fall-back is the money in our children’s piggybank. We can pay for today with tomorrow. Now is that a plan or what? This way of thinking was brought to you by a drug called Trump.
But, sorry people, our desires will soon morph into what the drug called Trump demands. Whatever we have will not be enough to satiate the hunger of what we have unleashed. Eventually, the demands of the drug called Trump will come around to seize our self-esteem, our relationships, and our willpower. Facts will be replaced with “alternative facts” by the drug we have elected to lead us. And the whisper of “follow me to greatness” will be transformed into “pay the piper.”
But maybe not. Maybe America’s addiction to the drug called Trump will eventually wear off and things will get better. I mean, really; maybe the drug called Trump and those who market it are right and our duty is to give the drug a chance to work. Perhaps this descent into addiction will end peacefully, quietly, and without consequences like madness and other manifestations of withdrawal and unraveling.
Yes. We may get better. But not before we bottom out. Ask any recovering addict. There is no resurrection without enduring a crucifixion. Every action; every reaction; everything said or left unsaid; done or left undone has consequences. Where is this bottom? When will the descent end and the recovery begin? Ask God. Ask your neighbor. Ask yourself. But don’t ask the drug called Trump ~ unless, of course, you are prepared to accept “alternative facts” ~ in which case I can assure you: our bottom ain’t here. And it ain’t yet.
Maybe the recovery has already begun. Maybe we will put the drug down. After all, the darkest hour is just before the dawn.
What time is it?
Dwight Lee Wolter is pastor of the Congregational Church of Patchogue on Long Island, New York. He is the author of several book in the field of addiction and dysfunctional family systems including, “A Life Worth Waiting for!”; “Forgiving Our Parents”; and “Forgiving Our Grownup Children.” He blogs at dwightleewolter.com