Vote for Hillary, Cough

I need to leap up and do all the things. Finishing the school room. Cleaning the whole entire house. Doing all the laundry. Finding the lost math book. Taking Timmy Failure back to the library where he belongs. Being glad for 30 seconds that I found him. Somewhere along the way admitting that not all the things are actually going to be done.

Feel like Secretary Clinton, stumbling, having to be drug along to her car. That’s a great image for my whole life.

In all sympathetic honesty, that moment of human frailty, that not even all her combined people could shield her from the public cellphone camera, is exactly the kind of comfort I need on this bright cheery morning.

I am always irritated and rage-full about my own weakness. I don’t want to fail at any point. I don’t want to sin. I want to go from strength to competent and graceful strength. I want God to bend his holy gaze in my direction and smile, rejoicing that I was awesome, unaided, without his help.

So as per usual I sat through the sermon yesterday–which was all about the stupid dumb stupid lost sheep–and felt really sad. Like the ghastly Pharisee, I don’t want to admit being lost because I don’t want to suffer the humiliation of being found. I’m grateful, of course in the end, to be found, but I would rather be congratulated for my goodness than grateful for my salvation. This is the state of all humanity, according to the bible, so you shouldn’t look down on me.

In a perverse way, I am therefore comforted by the frail humanity of someone who has a team of people to keep her life together. If she can’t walk all the way to the car, and some of her people are failing to catch her, well, it might be ok for me to face plant. At least God, when I stumble, can bear my substantial weight.

The stupidity of the feminist lie–that you can do it all and have it all and there should never be any more human sadness–is really charmingly embodied in the halting walk and shaky smile of our single Female Candidate. She, and I, and all women, rather than going from glory to glory, success to success, are really unified in in our common and universal weakness and confusion, like lost sheep.

Women are supposed to vote for Hillary because she’s a woman. And it’s finally time for a woman to be in the White House. She is the perfect icon for a culture and nation that is stumbling, seizing up with ill health. Maybe vote for Hillary because she’s just as frail and out of control as you are.

Have a lovely day.