Navigating Division and Seeking Truth in Troubled Times

In recent years, I have found myself increasingly overwhelmed by the deep divisions that have taken root in our country. As a mental health clinician, I am trained to observe not only the behaviors and words of those around me, but also the underlying emotions and beliefs that drive them. What I have witnessed among neighbors, family members, and friends is a growing rift—one that is fueled by politics, racial tensions, and a sense of moral certainty that often leaves little room for empathy or understanding.

It is easy, in times of turmoil, to interpret our feelings as a barometer for truth. If we feel angry, we must be justified; if we feel afraid, there must be something to fear. This emotional reasoning, while deeply human, can lead us astray. We are also reminded constantly of our right to free speech, and many take this as license to say whatever they wish, regardless of the impact on others. Yet, with rights come responsibilities—responsibilities to seek truth, to listen, and to speak with compassion.

The past few months have been especially harrowing. I have watched in horror as school shootings have claimed innocent lives, as individuals have been murdered in public spaces, and as political violence has escalated to the point of attempted and actual assassinations. The recent assassination of a prominent conservative figure has only deepened the divide. In the aftermath, I have seen people justify or even celebrate his death, labeling him as "right wing," a preacher of "hate," or a radical political operative. But the truth, as is so often the case, is far more complicated.

This individual, whose life was cut short, was not simply a caricature of political extremism. He advocated for judging individuals by the content of their character rather than the color of their skin, and for promoting people based on merit rather than policies rooted in diversity, equity, and inclusion. He encouraged a biblical worldview and the importance of strong fathers in the home. He was, at his core, a constitutionalist—someone who believed in the foundational principles of our nation.

What troubles me most is not just the violence itself, but the response to it. To see others celebrate his death, to witness the inversion of good and evil, brings to mind the biblical warning: "Woe to those who call evil good and good evil." We are living in a time when truth is often obscured by ideology, and when the humanity of those with whom we disagree is too easily forgotten.

As a clinician, I know that healing begins with listening—with the willingness to see the complexity in others and in ourselves. It requires humility, empathy, and a commitment to truth, even when that truth is uncomfortable or inconvenient. If we are to bridge the divides that threaten to tear our country apart, we must resist the urge to dehumanize those with whom we disagree. We must remember that every person, regardless of their beliefs, is deserving of dignity and respect.

In these troubled times, I hold onto hope that we can find our way back to one another—not by ignoring our differences, but by engaging with them honestly and compassionately. Only then can we begin to heal the wounds that divide us and build a future rooted in justice, truth, and love.