Election 2000 changed my life. As worldwide spotlights focused on my hometown, my barely-teenaged eyes were opened to the impact of American politics on the entire world. The chaos downtown sparked in me an ardent interest in public policy that led to enriching experiences in state, federal, and international government and motivated me toward a career in diplomacy and human rights law.
Al Gore and I don’t see eye to eye on much. Notwithstanding, I contend that his concession speech on December 13, 2000 was among the most beautiful soliloquies I’ve ever heard. The closing line would stay with me for years. In humility he spoke:
“As for the contest that ends tonight I do believe, as my father once said, that defeat might serve as well as victory to shape the soul and let the glory out.”
With those words a national emergency was over. With that national emergency my life was indelibly impacted. And with that indelible impact I began down a path that eventually led me to International Justice Mission.
Toward the end of my first internship with IJM I met with the Vice President of Field Operations, Sean Litton, for a life talk. This was his guidance:
“You’ve got to hold your hands open before God. Palms up. You've got to hold everything loosely in a posture to receive everything God would desire to bring your way, and to part with anything he would have taken from you. First, though, you’ve got to turn your hands upside down and shake out absolutely everything to which you’re holding. Get it all out. Then, turn your hands back up and see how he fills them. You’ve got to remember this: you’re going to die. Don’t dwell on it, but keep it in mind. You’re going to die. You can invest in anything you want here, but you can’t take anything with you when it’s over. You know what? All we get to keep is Jesus Christ. That’s it. But that’s more than we could ever need. It shouldn’t scare us. It should thrill us. It should fulfill us. And don’t allow yourself to think you’ve learned this lesson yet. You haven’t. You’ll still be learning it until you die. But the more you shake your hands out, the easier the practice will become— and the greater joy you’ll know in Jesus Christ.”
I haven’t lived long, but I can attest that much of my life thus far was committed to keeping my hands closed, clutching victories and accomplishments of my own design. Through a couple large-scale public losses in college I began to see how much my soul needed shaping and how much glory needed to be let out of me. I thought back to Al Gore’s words: “defeat might serve as well as victory to shape the soul and let the glory out.” He was right. In my case, actually, defeat served the purpose better than victory ever could have. I needed those defeats to force my hands upside down and begin letting go of that to which I was holding.
It’s not a finished project. It won’t be finished until I’m good and dead. (None of us is truly whole until we’re dead, but that’s a Hebrews 11 discussion for another day.) There are plenty days when in ignorance and pride I attempt to convince myself that I’ve learned the lesson— that my hands are fully emptied and open. There are other days when my hands close tightly: I gnash my teeth agonizing over life decisions that in a certain amount of ego centrism I’ve inflated to be more earth-shattering than they truly are.
These are not good days. But by the grace of God these days do not damn me. By the grace of God I am growing to understand my worthlessness without him. By the grace of God I am growing to see his promises and to welcome them from a distance. By the grace of God I am growing to understand that I am an alien and a stranger on earth. By the grace of God I am learning to look for a better country— a heavenly one. By the grace of God I am growing to see the heavenly victory of earthly defeat fostering death to this earth.
By the grace of God I might meet enough earthly defeat to let the glory out.
