When You’re Dark and Divisive…

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CRT, divisive, faith, humor, insanitybytes22, intersectionality, opinion, social justice

First of all to understand the humor in this post, you’re going to need to know I am generally pretty cheerful, perky even. I can drive my hubby nuts in the morning because I wake up ready to be out trilling with the forest creatures.  Then I realize there’s going to be coffee involved and I can hardly contain my excitement.

So you see, I am literally all about selling joy, often in the form of biscuits and gravy. How in the world did I ever become the dark and divisive one??

Second, I am totally community oriented, as in let’s all just be happy and get along. Let’s just avoid every single controversial subject and put family, relationship, and connection first.  I don’t care if you have a bone through your nose and a Bernie Sanders likeness painted across your car. It’s all good! Let’s just enjoy our time together, let’s celebrate life.

Good or bad, that’s my nature, that’s what comes naturally to me. So you can imagine my surprise when I suddenly became the one who is allegedly dark and divisive, dangerous, hateful, mean spirited, bigoted, and totally canceled. Rejected. Obviously the root of all evil, the cause of all the world’s problems.

That happens sometimes when you say, “No.” You expect it from people like teen agers. Sometimes you’ll say “No” and teen agers will be like, “well obviously you’re a horrible person who hates me.”

This is why I reject Social Justice Theories, why I’ve canceled intersectionality and Critical Race Theory, and why I’m not marching on behalf of BLM. Because these are all ideologies devoid of grace and mercy, opposed to reconciliation and redemption, and incapable of love! They fly right in the face of Christian values, they are ideologies that are the precise opposite of my very being.

It’s actually controversial to say that, but I am not sorry. It is the truth. Half the people who buy into this crap don’t even understand what they are involved in.

A whole lot of people I care about deeply have gotten themselves hooked into culture, or perhaps culture has their hooks into them.  Regardless, this is a cultian culture built on lies and deception, one willing to leave common sense at the door and to cancel someone like me, least they be tainted and  shamed by the embarrassing association.

I have been thoroughly, totally, mercilessly abused by this culture. Psychologically, emotionally, and spiritually terrorized, even. It goes way back some 50 years into my childhood and has been pretty much a relentless battle for decades. It’s all good, such trials build character and teach you how to  lean into the Lord. I am just saying, I am not going to take it anymore, I am not anybody’s punching bag, and that dog does not hunt. I know more about Marxism and the pitfalls of social justice then any human being should ever have to.

You know what really stabbed me in the heart recently? Aunt Jemima got herself canceled by the high and mighty. She was deemed an embarrassment, relegated to the trash heap of history as something shameful to be cast out, rejected,  and erased. My whole heart, my very soul just wailed in despair. I kid you not, I’ve been silently screaming, say her name, you fools! Say her name.

For those who don’t know, the first Aunt Jemima was named Nancy Green and she was born a slave.  At the age of 59, Green made her debut as Aunt Jemima at the 1893 World’s Columbian Exposition. Her life was painful and complicated, rich and diverse, but she was an incredible overcomer, a woman triumphant who should be honored, respected, and celebrated.

I actually used to paint Aunt Jemima bottles, cover them with decorative papers, modge podge and baubles, and celebrate the resilience and strength that lurks in the heart of women. I am not ashamed of Aunt Jemima, I celebrate her. She is a hero.

I used to think our culture had daddy issues, and we do, but we got mama issues, too. This is a culture being programmed, indoctrinated to be ashamed of your parents, of your ancestors, of our heroes. I hear it a lot the older I get, all the lies and deception, the re-writing of  history, how, in your day everything was backwards, women had no rights, no opportunity. You’re a total victim. You just don’t know any better. People in your day were all ignorant and  uneducated. Be grateful we’re building a better world for you. You’re such an embarrassment.

Wow. Hear the underlying abuse in those words, the complete disrespect, the outright contempt. The answer to all of that is a resounding, “No,” and if such people had a lick of sense they’d respect their elders and listen to our wisdom. No, that is not our story at all.

This cultian ideology I whole heartedly reject renders people flat and two dimensional, fails to recognize nuance and diversity, and celebrates pride, like literally. And the flip side of pride is always shame, unresolved, unredeemed, unforgiven shame. Buckets of it! Shame is the currency that must be passed around and shared like a game of hot potato. It is a perpetual acknowledgement of sin without the benefit of potential grace and restoration. It is constant accusations about destroying the planet, global warming, having too many babies, and taking up space. It is a script in the hands of the accuser of the brethren. It is  demonic. Dangerous. Devoid of grace.

So, I am actually doing my very best to be as dark and divisive as possible, because it is urgent, because people I care about deeply are impacted by it and I have seen the rottenness of that fruit, the way it traffics in deception and lies and ruins lives.

Divisive, aka, rightly dividing the word of truth.