I Hope I’m Wrong About This Prediction

I’ve always felt gratitude and respect for the service of the outgoing Presidents, even the ones for whom I didn’t vote. Until this one.

It’s the last twenty-four hours of his term, and I’m not breathing a sigh of relief just yet.

In every church I ever served, there was a Trump personality who grasped for leadership positions because they craved the spotlight and delighted in control.  As a new pastor, I had to consider my options carefully.  Should I leave them in place and let them have their little fiefdoms while I did my own work? Would I try to work with them because it would be professional suicide to oppose them? It was often a mistake to leave them in place because they tended to bungle their tasks, causing harm to the people around them. So I usually made a quiet decision that it was time for them to go.

It was a matter of mitigating their damage, fending off their attacks and peeling away their layers of influence. However, even if I was successful in removing them from power, they stood in the shadows, waiting for an opportunity to harm me, which, let’s face it, they succeeded in doing more than once in my career. 

I KNOW that Trump is not going to fade quietly away in shame or embarrassment.  He’ll say something wretched or do one last thing to cause wreckage.  Will he try to spur his crazy lackeys to commit more violence? 

He won’t be able to help himself.  And he can’t really be contained because up until noon tomorrow, he’s still President. And when he’s gone from the White House, he’ll bide his time until he can do more damage. 

I speak of this with dread; however, I know others are hoping he will try one last thing. Some of them are my fellow Americans and some of them are in the Russian government.

Maybe he’ll just join a church.  Some of them still like him, I imagine. They probably think he has money left to build them a new sanctuary. Or maybe he can get Mexico to pay for it.

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