Many of my family and friends support Trump and the disagreements on his ideas have been numerous and sometimes ugly. I have been called many names because of my opposing viewpoint. Libtard, Snowflake, Whiner, Feminazi. I have been told straight to my face that I am stupid and don't know anything about the real world. More than one person has said that I am an embarrassment because of my anti Trump posts on Facebook. They've talked about me behind my back, snickered, gossiped and laughed because their candidate won and mine lost. Mind you, these people claim to love me. Most also claim to know and love God.
I am bankrupt of understanding why they are comfortable with the choice they made in light of the latter.
In the week since the march there's been a lot of controversy. People who don't understand say things like,
What's the point?
What do women want that they don't already have?
The whole thing is because they're afraid they won't be able to get abortions anymore as a form of birth control.
They're just demonstrating what a Feminazi is. A man hater.
They think they're going to change the outcome of the election by having a hissy fit in the street?
Some people really think that's the point. We're just mad because a woman didn't win the presidency.
Those people are wrong.
The march is a “stand on social justice and human rights issues ranging from race, ethnicity, gender, religion, immigration and healthcare."
(From The Women's March on Washington website)
Everyone has their own story and their own reasons for marching. But, in a nutshell,
all the people marched for all the people.
I am not in danger of losing my healthcare.
I am not in danger of being banned from the country.
I am not in danger of being deported.
I am not in danger of losing access to birth control, prenatal services or cancer screenings otherwise unaffordable.
I am not in danger of being discriminated against because of my skin color.
I am not in danger of being placed on a registry because of my religion.
I am not in danger of having my marriage rights removed.
I am not in danger of discrimination because of my sexual orientation.
I am not in danger of discrimination because my genitalia does not reflect the gender I inherently know I belong to.
I am not in danger of not being able to pay the bills if I take maternity leave to bond with and nurture my baby.
I am not in danger of dying in a war ravaged area of the world.
I am not in danger of drowning while trying to escape poverty and fear.
At least for now, I am not in danger.
I marched for those who are.
Toward the end of the march, when we were tired, thirsty and our bladders were about to burst, the Central Presbyterian Church welcomed us with a tent full of volunteers just outside their courtyard. They were passing out cupful after cupful of ice water at a fold out table. One of them said to me, "We have bathrooms if you need one."
They opened their bathrooms to us.
All 60,000 of us.
Volunteers cheerfully held the doors open. This was, quite literally, a Godsend. It had been a long time since we'd used the port-a-potties at the beginning and most places along the way, understandably, were not opening their doors to a crowd that size.
It was at this time that I experienced the most profound moment of the entire march.
Standing on top of the table was a little boy. Likely, no older than three. His rain boots peeked out from beneath the hem of an orange apron that was much too big for him. On the apron was pinned a large button that said "Central Presbyterian Church Volunteer." The volunteers filled the cups and placed them on the table, and he would hand them to anyone in the crowd who was thirsty. His name, I found out later, was Danny.
I left the church 12 years ago, but the Holy Spirit did not leave me. When Danny handed me the cup the Spirit whispered.
Lord, when did we see You hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not minister to You?’
Then the King will answer, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for Me.’
Matthew 25: 44-45
People will remember the largest march in United States history for many different reasons. I will remember it as a joyous standing together of people united for others. I will remember that love without action is not love at all and faith without works is dead. I will remember a little child handing me a a cup of water and God reminding me that when we turn our backs on others, we have turned our backs on him.
