We find ourselves once again in another political cycle. I call it a political cycle because everything is going around in circles. Each cycle seems to get bigger and bigger. 

For instance. One day a politician will say one thing and the next day he will swing completely around and say something else. I would call it a merry-go-round, but there isn’t anything very merry about it. Rather, it is quite dizzy for me. What they really should call it is the “Dizzy-Go-Round.”

Of course, the politicians are counting upon people getting “dizzy” so they do not really know what is going on and who they are voting for. It is almost like a Ponzi scheme, more goes in than comes out.

The question that I pose is simply, am I voting for the Thursday edition politician or the Friday edition? They carry the same name but you would not know they were the same person or even related.

I am not going to say I am quite frustrated with all of this political nonsense. I am but if I say it, it will make me even angrier. To watch a political “debate” (and I’m really stretching the meaning of that word) feels like you are watching a bunch of grade schoolers having a brawl on the playground.

Actually, I probably would enjoy the playground brawl more than the political brawl. One has class and the other, well, doesn’t.

It all came to a head last Tuesday. I was frustrated. I was mumbling under my breath. I was clenching my fist and roaming through our house.

I finally sat down in my easy chair to calm down and drink a hot cup of coffee. It was then that the Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage queried me as to what I was all upset about.

I wish she would not have asked me because then I exploded and gave her several leftover pieces of my mind.

“It’s all these idiotic politicians trying to impress me with how idiotic they really are and then wanting me to vote for them.”

I sighed very deeply and concluded my tirade by saying, “When will all of this nonsense be over?”

For a moment, she just stared at me. You know. One of those “wife” stares that wives often give their husbands.

Finally, she stood up, looked at me with both hands on her hips and said, “Well, it ain't over tillthe fat lady sings.” Then she walked out of the room into the kitchen.

I have not heard that phrase for, I cannot remember how long. Why it came to her mind at this particular time I am not quite sure. Then it got me to thinking.

Everything, good or bad, does end sometime. I may not like the end, but that is beside the point.

I am not sure where this phrase, “It ain’t over until the fat lady sings,” comes from and I am not quite sure if it is politically correct today. After all, is it PC to say the words “fat” and “lady” in the same sentence let alone the same phrase?

I just am glad I did not say it.

However, it got me thinking along this line. If it ain’t over until the fat lady sings, where in the world and who in the world is this fat lady? Does she have a name?

I think we need to pool our resources together as a nation, find who this lady really is and then get her to sing. I don’t care what she sings. If it ain’t over until she sings, then for goodness sake, let her sing whatever she wants to sing.

No matter what she sings, everybody ought to come together and not only nominate, but elect her for the next five Grammy awards in a row. She can sing off key if she wants to. She can screw up the lyrics as much as she wants. She can screech and holler for all I care. But if by her singing all of this nonsense comes to an end, it will be well worth it, I assure you.

I wish the phrase went, “It ain’t over until the fat man sings.” Then I would volunteer, for I believe I would fully qualify and even though I can’t carry a tune, I would gladly volunteer my voice for such a patriotic act.

As we were watching some political program on TV, my wife sighed very deeply and sadly said, “These are the people who want to run our country?”

I had to agree with her and the thought that came to me was, let’s not let the fat lady sing until we have somebody that can actually run our country. Let that “fat lady” stand in silence until someone comes along that can actually do something in our country and then have her sing to high heaven.

I am not the first one to think in this direction. Solomon, that wise old man in the Old Testament had some things to say along this line. “Better is the end of a thing than the beginning thereof: and the patient in spirit is better than the proud in spirit” (Ecclesiastes 7:8).

To have what Solomon calls a patient spirit, is an admirable goal, and I work on it as hard as I can but I know that my hope is not in the “political cycle” but in the Lord Jesus Christ alone.