Dear Mr. President - Christmas 2018

Christmas 2018

Dear Mr. President,

It is the day after Christmas 2018. It sounds like you were somewhat lonely this holiday. I guess when you shut down the government right before a big day like Christmas, you have to stay in town instead of going off to play golf. Pity.

Yes, I pity you. You must be the loneliest man in the world, besides your two buddies – Kim and Vlad. Men who play the risky games you play don’t have friends. Staff and family members play your demanding game of flattery and obeisance. You isolate and are isolated.

As for our once-was-great-now-not-so-much country, you have wreaked one devastation upon another due to your revenge on Barack Obama, a President who brought greatness to the next level.

You make ridiculous promises you cannot keep. A promise is just air to you. No substance.

You have enraged our allies and friends. You have given secrets away to our enemies.

We’ve discovered (already knew) Russia elected you. Fake election. Fake President.

You have done all you can to destroy the environment.

You have tried to snatch reproductive rights, human rights, and healthcare from the people of our country.

You have the blood of dead children on your hands. Children held at our southern border. Those stains cannot be removed, no matter how many times you scrub.

You are a fool who listens to fools. You make policy based on crazy-talk by people of no morals and skeletal characters.   

But enough about you.

On Christmas Eve, my family and I worshiped. We heard the Christmas story. We sang Carols. I preached a sermon using white and black cloths. I won’t go into it here. We lit candles, and in the darkness of our sanctuary, we each held a flickering light as we sang Silent Night, Holy Night to the gentle music of a guitar.

And it was holy. And for a moment we had the opportunity to be at the coarse, dirty manger which held a helpless babe. The one who came to this earth to save us all.

It was a poignant reminder that we have someone more powerful than any earthly leader who has decided we are creatures worth saving. Even in the midst of our messes, unbelief, anger, fear, and pain, we still have hope.

We have a tiny flicker of light that won’t be overcome by darkness.

Our hope will outlast your hate.

Our hope will outlast your revenge.

Our hope will make the change you can’t begin grasp.

Our hope will make known your secrets and darkness deeds.

For light exposes everything that lives in darkness. That’s the purpose of light.

When many people each held a tiny light, a sanctuary glowed with warmth. 

I believe you will be gone from power soon, as well as those of your ilk. All the cowards and takers. All those who towed a party-line and tossed the most vulnerable of our society overboard. You will all unravel, as evil does. Sadly, you will leave chaos in your wake.

Humankind was created free. We each have choices we can make, for good or ill. We can reject God altogether, but he never rejects us. Some people don’t believe that either. Pity.

I pity those like you who live and work in darkness.

Light overcomes darkness. We will overcome. We will clean up your mess. We will shine with justice and righteousness and goodness.

Christmas Eve is a beautiful evening and makes us feel warm and cozy inside.

In reality, it was a night when a cosmic and violent revolution began.

God decided to risk everything one holy night to redeem all that was wrong with creation. I wouldn’t bet against him. God keeps promises.

A dear friend of mine wrote me a sonnet this past year. In it he gave me a name: Relentless Dove. It’s the most powerful and moving name I have ever received. My husband had our talented wood-working neighbor put this lovely name on amber wood with a dove in the center. My husband gave it to me privately yesterday morning and I cried at the beauty of it. I don’t feel I deserve such a name or work of art. It is hanging next to my desk. I will see it every day over and over and over again.  

In closing, here’s to 2019. After two years of your petulance and tantrums and destruction, we will carry the light into a better year. We will wait you out. And when you’re gone, there will be rejoicing and celebration, but also much work to do. The work of love, compassion and reparation.

With absolute sincerity,

Relentless Dove