SUPER TUESDAY

I’ll never forget that day.

I woke up that morning after a rough night’s sleep. I am normally a very lighthearted, optimistic guy, but I felt knots in my stomach the second I got out of bed. I couldn’t shake the anxiety and nervous tension—what would this day hold? I had heard from past candidates that there is a certain finality surrounding elections that is hard to explain. After eight months of pouring my heart, soul, and guts into something so demanding and so intense, I had arrived at the moment of truth. I abandoned so many other pursuits and this was my moment to see if it was all worth it. This was my payday.

I downed three shots of espresso over ice and then called my buddy, Aamon, who was running my campaign. He had moved his entire family across the country from Oklahoma to California a few months prior in response to a crazy word from God and to help me win a seat in the US Congress. Aamon was the direct answer to prayer. I had thrown out a fleece before the Lord, asking God to provide a high-caliber, big-thinking boss to guide this campaign if we had any shot at winning. God answered my prayer through a random meeting—one of my friends met Aamon in a hot tub at a resort. He works in mysterious ways, I guess!

Aamon had just finished helping get the governor of Oklahoma elected (which was another crazy miracle) and running my campaign was the next mountain of victory he felt called to climb. As soon as he arrived in California, we began running a thousand miles an hour.

When I called him that morning, I asked Aamon what his past candidate did on election night to get an idea of what is normal for the day. I felt we would probably need to do something productive and did not want to hold back any energy, resources, or ideas that we could implement before it was all over. I was exhausted, but I was alsoall in and ready to push through to the final moment.

I had never spoken as many times, traveled as much, or raised as much money as I did during that final month. I wanted to leave it all on the field. Despite my anxiety, I woke up ready to fight! I thought there may be some last-minute phone calls we could make, emails to blast, or maybe we could set up signs and a live stream outside a polling station in the center of the district. I was open to anything Aamon felt would be necessary to help secure the victory that night.

He laughed at me on the phone at my perpetually over-eager, “ready to brawl” mindset. He suggested, instead, that we just go fishing. Apparently, California has some pretty strict laws for how close to a polling station you can legally campaign on the day of an election. He also assured me that this particular district was close to 70 percent mail-in ballots, so the election had already been decided a few weeks ago. I was discovering these types of facts—which I never knew—almost every single day.

This was my first ever election, and I looked and sounded like anything but a polished politician. I figured there was virtually no way I would come in first place and beat out the incumbent Democrat. He had held this seat for over ten years. He had also served as the insur