My heart is aching tonight.

It is aching for the millions who will suffer when they lose the health care they need to survive, the LGBT people who may see their marriages voided and their identities denied.

My heart is aching for the people around the world who will live in greater fear that they might say or do something that sets off the great American bully.

My heart is aching for the Congolese refugee family that our local refugee ministry just settled here in New Bern, who escaped the dangers of a war-torn violent hell only to find themselves in a new hell of terror and fear, and the thousands of other families like theirs.

My heart is aching for the immigrant families who will be torn apart, for the Muslim Americans who will live in fear, for the people of color who thought they might be able to believe that things could get better but will now (rightly) view every white face with suspicion.

My heart is aching for the Church, so corrupted by love of money and the scourge of nationalism that we lacked the moral strength, wisdom, and faith in Christ to stand up as one and say “NO. We do not accept this.”

There is no victory tonight, only sadness and dread. We are entering a period of great darkness, and for the first time in my life, I am not sure that the country I love will make it to the other side.