I wonder what would happen if President Trump had a Damascus Road conversion experience. I keep thinking about the Apostle Paul, whose name was Saul for a time.  He was a leader, just like Trump. He was a little crabby, just like Trump.  But there was a day, an ordinary day, when he set out on the road with a plan (get to Damascus and arrest people who follow this joker Jesus) and suddenly, inexplicably found himself face to face with Jesus himself.  “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?” Jesus said.

Saul the murderer fell to the ground and was struck blind. His traveling companions had to lead him by the hand the rest of the way to Damascus. For three days he couldn’t see and didn’t eat or drink. When he got his sight back, he went on to change the world.  He started preaching that Jesus was the Son of God after all. He received death threats himself. Lots of them. This apparently did not bother him.

Those three days of sightlessness made all the difference. One day, he wanted to arrest people who followed Jesus. Less than a week later, he joined them.  He set out for Damascus thinking he could see. On the road he was struck blind and found true sight.

I would love to see something like this happen to President Trump.

In a post-Damascus conversion world, the president might begin to give away his money. He would gleefully start writing anonymous checks to organizations that house the homeless, care for fragile senior citizens, sponsor plays and concerts and educate poor children.  He would be too busy serving people to Tweet on Saturday nights.  He would go for a hike and sleep in a tent and realize that the earth is beautiful and worth loving and protecting. He might tire of all the gold accents in his apartment and private jet. Maybe he would invite refugees to dinner at the White House and listen to them. The woman with the brain tumor who was picked up by immigration authorities? He would visit her in the hospital, but secretly, so he didn’t get any attention for it.  Her story would touch him deeply.

There’s no shortage of potential Biblical role models for the president. How about Zacchaeus, the wealthy tax collector and short fellow that met Jesus in Luke 19? Trump could copy Zacchaeus and pay back anyone he had ever cheated 4 times what he owed them.  After meeting Jesus, Zacchaeus also joyfully promised to give half his possessions to the poor.  If Trump started to channel the Apostle Paul and Zacchaeus, he would be a serious force for good. He could become our Wall Destroyer and Giver in Chief.  His legacy would be one of wild conversion and fierce love.

This could happen. Stranger things take place everyday.

For now, though?  Maybe I should focus a little more on my own need for conversion. It’s easy to have suggestions for the president. It’s a little harder to look inside. What would happen to me on the road to Damascus? Where am I blind?   Clearly, the president is not the only one who could benefit from a life altering encounter with Jesus on the Damascus Road.  I’m right there with him.

Today, you made it out of the house with a shower and a mug of hot tea.  This is significant, because there are many days when your tea gets left on the counter or kitchen table, only to be remembered when you are too far down the road and too late to go back home.

Also, the dog was fed and walked. The cat box cleaned. The garbage taken to the end of the street in the rain.

Breakfast was made. Scrambled eggs with turmeric, the spice that supposedly helps brain function. What is not to like about that?  Cereal for the non-egg fans. Hot chocolate in to-go cups to warm up the blustery morning.

You cut fruit. And vegetables. These went into the lunch bags with sandwiches.

Dirty clothes were picked up off the floor and tossed in the clothes basket. A load of laundry was thrown in the washer, on time delay, so it will just be finished washing when you arrive home again.

You even made your bed.

The cat escaped, but was rescued and put back in the house, so he wouldn’t have to be resentful outside in the rain all day.

All this before 8am.

Even more? Everyone made it to where they were supposed to be, on time.

You were fabulous.

Except, now you are so tired that you just want to go back to bed. And all that you did?  It was preliminary stuff, a prelude to the day, the barest of beginnings.

It doesn’t even count, not really.

There is no prize given for successful completion of the morning routine.

Except, that desire for a prize? That’s the sneaky voice of Esteem piping up, the one that likes to be publicly recognized, lauded and adored.  The truth is that getting a prize wouldn’t make you happy anyway. Sure, it would feel nice, for a moment or two. But it’s not a long term mood booster. Remember what Fr  Keating says: you are made happy by God’s love and presence alone.

So stop for a minute. Take some deep breaths. Be grateful for the tea that made it into the car with you. And realize that the morning work matters, because the steady stream of breakfasts and lunches, laundry and pet care, trash removal and tea making is just another way to say love.  And even though you may not have recognized it at the time, God was there with you in every frantic moment, the quiet below the hurry, the singer, the song.