I am sitting at Dunn Brothers in Elk River at 8:30 am. There have been at least a dozen households here with parents bringing their kids to the coffee shop before school. They are playing mancala, talking, reading the paper together. There's a deck of cards out. Lots of laughter. One girl -- maybe seven -- is demonstrating her ipod to her mom. Another girl is teaching her little brother to spell "r-e-s-p-o-n-s-i-b-i-l-i-t-y". It all gives me hope for the future.

We have entered the calm before the vote -- or at least it feels that way. A stray email comes through now and then telling me how irresponsible and manipulative I am, but since it's anonymous I don't take it too seriously. Some people just need to vent; I don't need to agonize over what they say if they're not willing to have a conversation.

It is hard to be fearful on a beautiful morning like this. These crisp November mornings just ring with the psalm, "The earth is the Lord's, and the fullness thereof ..."

And as if to verify that, a woman whom I have never met just came up to me and said that the Holy Spirit just moved her to pray for me. I asked if she knew what was going on at Central, and she said, "Is that your church?" So I explained just a little bit about this Sunday's vote and she said she'd pray for me.

Thanks, God.