Good morning, Noble-One.
It was so nice to have your whole family over to our home last night, for many hours of unmasked and socially-close feasting and fellowship, in preparation for our entire family's Christmas celebrations tomorrow. Hearts flutter in the heavenly abode of Jesus as I type these words to you.
I am also happy you met Memoria, our new refugee family member for the next eight months. After you left, I pursued the magnanimous task of clarifying some confusion in the mind of Memoria, who inquired about our vaccination status. I forgot to inform her before your arrival yesterday that your entire family is not vaccinated. As I have interpreted her feelings on this matter, I now know that she is not comfortable being indoors with people who are not vaccinated.
I failed. I’m such a failure. Failure is my saint name.
I did not sleep well last night. Pity me, my beloved Noble-One.
My heart is heavy, like a millstone dragging my earnest desires into the depths of the sea.
So you must know: I want our entire family—yours included—to be together. I really do. But this millstone God chained to me is His will, and all part of His marvelous plan of Redemption. And grace. And mercy. And love.
Last year was painful for everyone. The masks. The ideology-based segregation. Treating your family alone as being ceremonially unclean and defiled. The badgering of your oldest son about his mask drooping ever-so-slightly below his nose, while all of us shivered indoors in temperatures well below zero. But all that was necessary, because of CDC guidelines.
Sadly, I think it caused distance between you and your siblings. I cry crocodile tears over it now.
Months later, the bridal shower you and I attended unmasked and undistanced brought me tremendous joy! Then, sadly, you and I injured each other afterward. It was not just me injuring you. You injured me too.
Beloved Noble-One, I love you. I don’t love your husband, and I never have; nor might I ever. But that’s a separate issue I’m unwilling to get counseling over. It helps that your father is a domestic doormat, too. So don't expect much change in regard to things we both are unwilling to change.
I have remained immensely burdened by missing out on many things in your life over the past ten years of your marriage to him. And I know you have missed out on many things in our lives over that period, too. Let’s not point fingers as to who is to blame for both. Instead, let’s mourn together. But let’s also rejoice because I know our Redeemer lives!
I know that God cares for each and every one of us—even the unvaccinated! He cares about our sorrows, our heartbreaks, and I trust He will use opportunities like bridal showers to create healing, joy, and new experiences we can all rally around and celebrate together!
This. Is. My. Prayer.
My. Christmas. Wish.
I truly love you all equally, and my goal is to honor and respect everyone in our family, regardless of vaccination status.
Oh, how I wish we all could have what we wish for!
Oh, how I wish we all could have what we need!
But our comfort zones around the unvaccinated differ. And it is, sadly, with thick crocodile tears, clear to me that this is not possible for Christmas this year (tomorrow).
God has invited us to welcome Memoria into our hearts and into our home. We have accepted God’s invitation. It is now our privilege and responsibility to honor her, love her, and respect her too.
I went to bed praying, tossing and turning, in chains of despair wound tight all around me. I asked God to show me what to do, to set me free. And He answered me with gracious words of affirmation about how Memoria feels. So this decision is no longer about me and my desires. This decision is God’s and Memoria’s.
When Memoria woke up this morning, I told her what God invited me to enforce, starting today: “I will not have unvaccinated people in our home without masks while she is here.”
She hugged me and said, “Thank you.” Then she said, “This will surely make the Noble-One feel sad.” I told her this makes me sad, too; but God revealed to me His will, and I will not deviate from it, because I am my Beloved’s and He is mine.
That turned into an opportunity for brief comments about God, who was willing to bear heartache with His own Son on the cross, for the sake of others (even the unvaccinated).
I am praying God will use this for his glory. But what I have to say next is going to be very hard for you to hear:
Ko-Vid cases are rising. I will need to be very careful about having unvaccinated people here indoors. So then, I’m wondering if I can drop off your family’s gifts today, so that they could be opened tomorrow over FaceTime?
with love of Jesus in my heart,
XXOO XO XOO OOX OX OO XX
P.S. Two of my grandchildren (who are not in your household) are still too young to be allowed the sacramental gift of vaccination, because the FDA has not yet approved an experimental gene therapy injection for their age group. But I will make an exception for them both for all of Christmas day (tomorrow) because I’m a complete fucking hypocrite.