Divided

Miraculously, we received a religious exemption but I’ve been afraid to write about it. After my last post, I thought of contacting someone I know in Calgary. Turns out her church specializes in helping those in need of exemption letters and who are looking for employment due to firing or suspension related to you know what.

It’s a strange world to be living in – one where an exemption must be sought at all. It’s also strange, the apprehension I have in letting it be known my family is persevering in our resistance and have, thankfully, be granted the ability to do so. I know this is upsetting for many.

Even with all the information that has come out, there’s still a steadfast holding to the safety and necessity.

It crossed my mind to send some videos to the neighbours who renounced me on Wolfe Island. But is there any point? We’ve all chosen our sides. In stead of bridging the gap, time and facts seem to widen the divide.

Then like a bomb, the decision to overturn Roe vs Wade in America has blasted open an even wider chasm. Though, technically, I am an evangelical Christian the ruling is not something I was necessarily hoping for or even expecting despite all the preambles.

My social media world is being divided even farther. I know people on both sides. I know people who have chosen life and those who have chosen abortion. I know those who have stepped up to foster and adopt children from difficult places. I know people desperately waiting to adopt. I understand all the viewpoints. Rather than taking a side, I’m watching as the chasm becomes so expansive I wonder how it will ever be bridged.

Of note, those shouting “my body, my choice” the loudest are also shouting the loudest for mandates and losses of freedoms on other fronts. That baffling hypocrisy aside (exceptionally baffling with all that’s coming to light) I am worried about what will happen.

When the pandemic began in March 2020, I wept almost constantly. The lingo, the regulations, the sight of parks and picnic tables wrapped in yellow caution tape pulled the rug out from under me. The subsequent fall broke things deep inside of me. I was alarmed by the regulations and restrictions on community and connection in the real world.

I could feel the fabric of society being torn apart in those early days and it brought me to tears continually.

Multiple times in my life, I’ve known the beauty of true, heartfelt community. I’ve learned how to put aside differences and come together in unity. I’ve lived that in big and small ways. I’ve known it for long and short seasons. I cry because my children may never experience it again. Right now it’s impossible to imagine a place where we are not divided into categories that pit us against each other. Masked. Unmasked. Vaccinated. Unvaccinated. Pro-mandates. Against-mandated. Pro-choice. Pro-life. So on. And so forth. It’s all become so defining.

But the truth is, I’m more than any of those labels. So are you. We have unique perspectives, experiences, and insights that can’t be distilled into a single phrase.

This divide between us is wrong. Daily, I find myself falling into it on social media. Every time I begin typing a response to something someone has said, the words from the Hunger Games run through my mind, “…remember who the enemy is. That’s all.”

You’re not my enemy.

Everyone of us is doing what we can to survive. We all have concerns about what’s unfolding and want our voices to be heard.

You are not my enemy. I don’t want to be yours.

Just like you, I’m trying to figure out how to get through this bizarre time alive and with my family healthy and intact. Our war is not with each other, I want to remember that.

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