The Prophet Elisha And Why I am Choosing to Talk About Politics Before 2028

Elisha was one of the most powerful connected prophets in the Bible. He succeeded Elijah and carried what Scripture calls a “double portion” of his spiritual authority.

Elisha had direct access with kings which helped him to understand national decisions. While Elisha was fiery and confrontational…

He was also composed, strategic, and relational. This helped him become highly respected by other leaders. His miracles weren’t random, but solution-based. In fact, her multiplied a widow’s oil to cancel her debt. Healed Naaman, a high-ranking Syrian official. Made an iron axe head float (recovering lost resources).

And let's not forget when he raised a child from the dead. 👉 Everything he did had tangible impact—money, health, access, survival.

As we begin looking ahead to the 2028 elections, I’ve found myself thinking more seriously about something many people tend to avoid: talking about politics. For a long time, it felt easier to stay quiet—safer, even. Political conversations can be messy, emotional, and, at times, divisive. But lately, I’ve started to feel that staying silent comes with its own cost.

Politics isn’t just something that happens in distant buildings or on TV screens. It shapes our daily lives—our schools, our communities, our opportunities, and our future. Choosing not to engage doesn’t mean we’re unaffected; it just means we’re leaving decisions to others. And as we move closer to another major election cycle, that realization feels more important than ever.

Wanting to talk about politics doesn’t mean wanting to argue. For me, it’s about understanding—listening to different perspectives, asking questions, and being willing to reflect on my own views, from a logical perspective. Not an emotionally charged one.

It’s about caring enough to stay informed and to participate, even when it’s uncomfortable. Growth rarely happens in silence, and democracy certainly doesn’t thrive on disengagement.

There’s also something powerful about normalizing respectful political conversations. When we approach these discussions with curiosity instead of hostility, we create space for real dialogue. We begin to see each other not as opponents, but as people shaped by different experiences and values. That kind of connection is what strengthens communities, even when we don’t agree.

As 2028 approaches, I don’t want to sit on the sidelines. I want to be informed. I want to vote thoughtfully. And maybe most importantly, I want to be part of conversations that matter. Not because I have all the answers, but because being involved is how we move forward—individually and collectively.

Talking about politics doesn’t have to divide us. If anything, it can be a starting point for understanding, accountability, and change. And that feels like a conversation worth having.