We pray. We rise. We go.
Trump is a product, and until we can address the root of his appeal (and therefore his power) it doesn’t matter whether he is in the White House or not — there will always be another demagogue waiting to take his place.
To say it was a surprise would mean we hadn’t been paying attention. We had, every step of the way. But knowing didn’t make it any less horrifying as we watched that red line inch closer to 270—the number that would hand Donald Trump the presidency once more. Friends on both sides of the border felt the same dread as the results became clear, confirming what so many of us had desperately hoped to avoid.
I’m grateful for Broadview Magazine offering a place for my words of grief, lament, and hope in the days following Trump’s election. Like Elijah under the broom tree, we need rest. We need to grieve. We need a nap and a cookie.
Bri-anne Swan
But then, like Elijah, we will rise. One foot in front of the other. Perhaps tentatively at first. Or maybe with fists lifted high. But we will rise. And we will go where we are needed. Because that is the only thing to do.
It is a defiant choice to rise. To keep moving. The world may rage with injustice, and hope may seem laughably fragile. But the act of standing, of taking one more step, of reaching for whatever strength can be found—that is hope. We can lie down in despair, we just can’t stay there forever.
Trump is a product, a figure who stands atop a heap of broken systems, unchecked fears, and long-nurtured divisions. He thrives because the soil was already fertile with anger and mistrust. Men like him don’t rise alone; they’re carried by every silent nod, every overlooked injustice, every system rigged to favour the loudest, most ruthless voice. It’s easy to point at him and say he’s the problem, but it runs deeper—into the very veins of a society that rewards spectacle over substance and lets cruelty slide when it’s wrapped in power. The real reckoning isn’t just with him but with every structure that props him up and tells us this is the best we can do. That’s where the rot sits, and until it’s pulled up by the roots, there will always be another demagogue waiting to take his place.
My soul is heavy with the fear of what is to come. Already, as we see Trump name his inner circle, flashes of George Orwell’s 1984 “Newspeak” are emerging. To what else can we compare The Department of Government Efficiency?
Doubleplusungood.
I take comfort in the sacred words of our scriptures, knowing they stretch across centuries, binding together voices of generations past to shape the days we now live. It is a conversation, old as time yet still whispering to us, calling our hearts to listen closely. Within those ancient words, I feel the hand of a God who draws us towards life, towards the mending of what is broken, and the healing of wounds we scarcely understand.
You cannot love God and turn your back on your neighbour—it’s as simple as that. We are called to love with a fierce devotion and protect with all we have. This didn’t start with Trump, and it won’t end with him, either. Our task is to keep shining Christ’s light in this world, even when it costs us, even when it demands more than we thought we could give.
We pray. We rise. We go. Over and over again.