Honor.

The beginning of November found me just back from a trip to Eastern Africa. On Election Day, I went our local polling station to vote and experienced gut-level gratitude.

It hit me like an unexpected rush of cold wind . . . those tears, that feeling. So unexpected and overwhelming.
Minutes before, I had walked into the same elementary school gym where I have voted since I was 18. My mind had been filled with thoughts of gratitude that I was an American who had the privilege to vote. When I entered the gymnasium, I had noticed a soldier in full fatigues, head bent over and slightly hidden behind the American flag dividers that separated the voting booths. He was selecting the future leaders of his country. All of this made my heart swell with gratitude and love.

But it wasn't until I sat down at that voting booth, picked up my own pen, and looked down at my own ballot that the real emotion hit me. My pen was poised and my eyes read these  words, "For President and Vice President of the United States of America". Without warning, my heart was in my throat, the tears started dripping down my cheeks. I was getting to select who I wanted to be the next executive leader of the greatest democracy on the face of the earth. The overwhelming honor was almost more than I could bear. Perhaps it was because just 10 days before I was in an impoverished nation, perhaps it was because I am preparing to move overseas and leave my precious country for a time. I'm not sure why, but the honor of getting to cast my vote as an American citizen completely overwhelmed me and I just let the tears come. Tears of gratitude. Tears of honor. Tears of joy for democracy at it's finest.