Voting Days and Waiting Nights

On casting ballots, watching returns, and trusting what can’t be counted

Election night is one of my favorite nights of the year. I love it—the drama, the magic maps, the scrolling precinct counts, the projections and retractions, the long shots, and the heartbreaks. In 2024, we even had themed cocktails and snacks. My wife humored me, as she always does. She’s patient with my wannabe Josh Lyman persona, though she prefers the “watch party” to end well before midnight. Maybe that’s why she planned an international trip for this week. I can’t blame her.

This week, I was home alone, two screens glowing, the county-by-county vote totals slowly updating. It’s part civic ritual, part liturgy of suspense. I know it’s all a little absurd—one night won’t fix a nation—but there’s something about watching it all unfold that still stirs something in me. We act, then we wait. We vote, then we hope.

The Spiritual Practice of Waiting

That rhythm—act, then wait—feels familiar to anyone who’s ever tried to live by faith. Read through your church’s prayer list and you’ll quickly learn that the ballots of prayer are cast long before the results are known. The kingdom of God doesn’t arrive on schedule. It comes quietly, like yeast in dough or a seed buried in dirt.

Every act of mercy is a small vote of trust in a God whose timing is slower than ours. Every word of forgiveness is a declaration that the world’s final tally has already been decided in Christ’s favor. Faith is living as though the resurrection has already been certified, even when the returns from our own lives are still coming in.

Maybe that’s why I like election nights. They remind me how powerless I am over outcomes. I can participate, but I can’t control. The counting takes as long as it takes. Grace does too.