I’d rather be righteous than right.

Four years ago I voted for one guy then wept with joy when the other one won. Amidst the confetti and the crying and the adorable family, I was proud to be an American.

Maybe I wasn’t as hooked to social media. Maybe it was my first year being registered to vote in a decidedly unswingable state. Maybe  I am remembering it all wrong. But I don’t remember it being this heated. I don’t remember it being this mean. Maybe it was me. Maybe I wasn’t as emotionally invested.

I tell the same story in my personal life. If I can see the benefits of both sides I am happy to let God be in charge. It is when I am sure that I am right that I get all up in arms. I get defensive, I roll my eyes, I call names. It makes no sense to be right with the law but not right with God.

I have traded righteousness for rightness more times then I even know. Rightness is a shny box with emptiness inside. It needs to be defended against and closely guarded. It promises but it never ever pays out. Not like righteousness, not like the homely, steady pace of doing the next right thing for our God., only to find yourself humbly before him, resting, complete, fulfilled.

I don’t know if I’ll stay up to watch the election. If I don, it will likely be by twitter and not by television. I may instead go to bed and guard my heart against the rightness it wants to grab onto. I may just hold out for righteousness instead.

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