Regardless of how one feels about the election results, I think we can all agree on one thing: We're elated that it's all over. This election season was painful, and I now wonder how much Botox I'll need to flatten out the inevitable wrinkles from all the wincing I did over the past few months. From the time I visited my hometown of Cleveland during the Republican National Convention, through Election Day on November 8, I witnessed discussions that were fraught with condescension, name-calling, threats, and just all-around negativity. The ads that downright polluted the World Series coverage flattened the excitement I had for my beloved Indians fighting for a chance to end their 68-year losing streak (this is still a sensitive topic, but that's beside the point). I'd had enough. I found myself cynical. This is the first presidential campaign I did not volunteer for. In years past, I would spend hours at presidential election headquarters making phone calls, hop in cars with complete strangers to go door-to-door, and litter my bumper with stickers supporting my candidates. This year my mentality was different. I kept catching myself saying things like, "Well, we lose either way." I wasn't excited. My original plans for Election Night was to go to School of Community, hit the sack early and hope for the best possible situation to be there when I wake up on November 9. However, some in my SoC had other plans. In my inbox Monday morning was the following:

In lieu of school of community this Tuesday, we are hosting dinner at our place—to be together as friends and witnesses on election night.

So, follow I did, and dragged my boyfriend along. The mood was light; it was a time to relax and enjoy one another. Together we ate brats, drank beer, colored in electoral prediction maps, roasted marshmallows outside, and chatted about everything from work to travel to Trump's hair. What could have been a night fraught with cynicism, negativity, and a doomsday mentality for me turned into a very pleasant evening with friends who remind me of the Presence of Christ, even in the most simple of ways. Even though we were not at all united in our political views, we were united by something much more profound. Driving a friend home that night, I realized that I was happy and relaxed, despite the uncertainty of the election. An evening together with friends is always a beautiful reminder that our life is so much more than politics. Being together trumps (no pun intended) anything that could ever happen on Capitol Hill or in the White House. While the road ahead may still be a long one, and that Botox certainly won't pay for itself, our certainty of Christ should lead us to a place of rest.