Presidential Primaries and Lucky--or Unlucky?--Losers

Confession: I like politics. I DON'T like politicians and their frightening inability to get anything done, but I like following the news and generally being informed. I have opinions on most issues and, of course, most candidates. I don't share these opinions often, but at this pivotal juncture of the 2020 election cycle, I thought it might be worth digging into some relevant data.

First, a bit of background: I was a registered Republican until President Trump became the leader of the party in 2016. Now I'm an unaffiliated voter who leans right or left of center depending on the issue. Since I will never, ever vote for our current president, whose character I think thoroughly disqualifies him, I've been following the Democratic nomination process with more than just a passing interest.

It occurred to me last night that voters have been nominating what I'm calling lucky losers. So what is a lucky loser? It's a candidate who finished second in a presidential primary, then went on to secure his or her party's nomination in a subsequent election cycle. There are multiple examples, including John McCain, Mitt Romney, and Hillary Clinton, to name the most recent few. In fact, since 2004, the first presidential election in which I was eligible to vote, nearly half of the major parties' nominees have been lucky losers, as you can see below:

(i) = incumbent, (i*) = un-elected incumbent, ** = candidate who won most delegates but lost nomination

I've bolded the names of my so-called lucky losers so they're easier to spot. As you can see, Republicans have been much more likely to nominate lucky losers than their Democratic counterparts. In fact, Hillary Clinton was the first Democratic lucky loser in almost fifty years.

But what do John McCain, Mitt Romney, and Hillary Clinton have in common? NONE OF THEM WERE PRESIDENT. Lucky losers haven't won a presidential election since George H. W. Bush in 1988, and the only other lucky loser who eventually won the presidency was Ronald Reagan in 1980.

Why am I bringing this up now? Because Bernie Sanders looks poised to become the second Democratic lucky loser in as many election cycles and, as history has taught us, lucky losers tend to lose. Now, in Bernie Sanders's case, this wouldn't make me feel too bad. As much as I admire him for sticking to his principles, I can't in good conscience endorse most of his policies. But I also can't imagine reelecting Donald Trump, which is exactly what I fear will happen if Bernie Sanders wins the Democratic nomination.

In Pursuit of Patience

Three and a half years ago, in the fall of 2016, I got the impression it was time for Chris and me to try to have another baby. This was kind of monumental. From the time Monster was small--from the time he was born, really--I'd assumed we'd have another. I could almost hear her footsteps pattering around the house, and when I looked for my kids, I constantly looked for a fourth.

The timing had never been right. During most of 2013, spilling into 2014, I'd been majorly depressed. I felt like I SHOULD have a baby, but I didn't WANT another, which just made me MORE depressed. I'd been taught for years and years that children were a gift from God and that having and raising them were two of life's main purposes, so if I didn't want another, I was clearly horrible.

After going to a therapist once or twice a month for more than a year, I went back on medication. That put baby plans on hold, as I was under the impression that you couldn't have a baby while taking antidepressants. I was part relieved, part sad.

By sometime in 2015, I was feeling pretty good. I weaned myself off medication without talking to my doctor. (This was NOT a good idea.) Then 2016 struck. As I detailed in this post, Chris received a job transfer that really threw me for a loop. Still, I came to the conclusion I included in that post:

"I believe God was doing more with my life than I could do with it on my own. It's hard to let go, but I believe He loves and cares for us as a father loves and cares for his children. And because fathers are anxious to see their children succeed, He will help us steer our ships if we're willing to trust Him. In other words, when we let Him in, He won't ever let us down."

Three months after writing that, I was getting the impression it was time for Chris and me to try to have another baby. I was nervous but excited. As I detailed in THIS post, Chris and I had had to deal with infertility before. But this time, I was sure we were definitely doing what God wanted us to do. I was confident that meant the sailing would be fairly smooth.

I smile as I write that now. Hadn't I already learned that God carried out His plan, not what I thought His plan should be? I should have, but I hadn't. I was in for a crash course.

One month went by, then two. A sister-in-law announced that she was pregnant. I was mad despite myself. This sister-in-law had always gotten pregnant on the first or second try. Why had she never had to work? I shared some of these feelings with another sister-in-law, one who's miscarried several times. She completely understood.

Then, a month later, SHE announced that she was pregnant.

I cried a lot that winter, tried to get inside God's head. I hadn't really expected to get pregnant that first month, but what about the fifth or sixth? And why was God dispatching babies to every other family in our family? Was there something wrong with us? Were we less faithful, less deserving?

By the time March rolled around, I thought I was all cried out. Then a third sister-in-law, who'd put off having kids for years, announced that she was pregnant, too.

It was right around this time that I admitted to myself I was probably more depressed than I'd ever been before. I would go on crying jags that would, like, compress my chest and make it difficult to breathe, and my suicidal thoughts were slowly developing into suicidal plans. I spoke openly with Chris about the problems I was having, but they never went away. By April, I conceded to seeking medical help. We scheduled an appointment right away.

Chris went into this appointment thinking our window had closed. We'd tried. We'd failed. Time to move on. That said, I was less convinced. Why had I received that prompting if our family was complete? I know God sometimes allows us to take steps down the wrong path so we can pinpoint the right one, but that answer didn't sit. I was hopeful that the doctor would provide a better one.

Maybe you've already guessed what I learned at that appointment. As it turns out, I was wrong--there IS an antidepressant childbearing women can take from conception to delivery. Multiple studies have shown it has little to no impact on developing babies, and it's safe to take for days, weeks, months, even years.

This changed everything, of course. I walked away from that appointment feeling like I'd found the answer I'd been looking so hard for. And sure enough, a few months later, once this wondrous medication had had time to take effect and I was feeling good again, I got pregnant on the first try.

I could almost hear God's voice speaking softly to my heart: "THIS was the way for you to go. THIS was the path I chose for you. Wasn't it better than the path you would have chosen for yourself?"

What did I say after our house in Mesquite finally sold? "And because fathers are anxious to see their children succeed, He will help us steer our ships if we're willing to trust Him." You see, I ALREADY KNEW that God's way always works out. But when the next storm arose, I forgot and wrung my hands. What will we do, what will we do, what will we do, what will we DO? And yet I already knew: keep calm, carry on, and let Jesus take the wheel.

God allows us to pass through faith-promoting tests and trials just so they'll promote our faith. And if we let them work in us--in us, through us, and around us--then the next time we're confronted with a faith-promoting test, we'll be able to press forward and, if not rest fully easy, then at least rest easier.

Why am I sharing this now? Because I'm waiting to hear back on a non-writing endeavor that would mean the world to me. And because I've been on submission with one project or another for the past almost a year. I HATE being on submission. It's dumb and demoralizing. But as I hope I've FINALLY learned, I know how to handle it.

Have I had difficult days? Sure. Have I prayed for an end? Of course. But more often than not, I've prayed for strength to persevere, and that's made all the difference.