Hi friends,

It appears this corner of the internet is getting more activity than usual. In fact, we had 7,000 new visitors last month alone.

I wish I could believe this is because of my individual charm and command of language. However, the stats suggest that it’s because of the vacuum of information documenting Sean Feucht’s antics. Of which there have been many more since we last spoke on the matter.

It appears that since Feucht’s vulture-like co-opting of the Black Lives Matter momentum in St. Louis, he’s returned to the West Coast to feign persecution by way of public health ordinance.

In less than 20 mins, @GavinNewsom is issuing an order to shut down all indoor church services across CA!

What a tyrannical move and drastic overreach of government into our religious liberties!!

LET US WORSHIP!!!!!

RT THIS AND LETS STAND AGAINST THIS INSANITY!!! pic.twitter.com/OokcTqVLNu

— Sean Feucht (@seanfeucht) July 13, 2020

I find his whole thing glaringly misguided.

He would just be a nuisance to be ignored if he weren’t so exceptionally harmful. His example of defiance is one of ignorance and it mobilizes the followers who subscribe to this entitled hyper-partisan brand of Christian faith.

They will elevate Sean Feucht as a mini-messiah leading them to deliverance from poorly-paid retail employees that are just trying to follow policy and the governors that would rather their constituents not die.

NBC reports that Sean Feucht was the frontman behind Sunday’s revival-like Let Us Worship event which drew approximately 5,000 people to the beach for a concert amidst a pandemic.

When asked about the man behind these gatherings, the Northern California musician and worship leader responded, “I’m just a nobody trying to tell everybody about somebody, and that’s Jesus. “

The thing is, I don’t buy it.

And I’m making that assumption from what I’ve heard from the other side of this horse’s mouth. Just take a look at his bio. It reeks of a man desperate to be seen.

And aren’t we all longing to be seen?

Perhaps not as the leader of a movement but by a parent, a lover, a friend, a holy God in the midst of our pain and struggle?

It depresses me to no end that Sean Feucht’s purpose behind these gatherings showcases an unwillingness to see or his neighbor.

California has reported 8,517 deaths as a result of Covid-19 and 477k confirmed cases impacting a disproportionate amount of Black and Latino communities.

Regardless of such, Feucht is taking his sideshow to Portland next month to “change the narrative” after weeks of protests and riots.

Do you see what he’s doing here? He’s essentially the worship-equivalent of an ambulance chaser.

Instead of assuring the Church that Christ is in the room with us when we pray or worship privately in our bedrooms, he’s boasting about the amount of bodies he got to come out to sing on the beach. He’s insisting his followers “hold the line” while the rest of humanity bleeds out.

We don’t have time for persecution theatrics.

The church of California WILL NOT be silenced. https://t.co/teaHwWfpOU

— Sean Feucht (@seanfeucht) July 28, 2020

Unfortunately, provocateurs of Feucht’s variety believe there’s no such this as bad press. If they’re getting “persecuted” (lol) by bloggers or the mainstream media, they enter the fantasy of a martyr.

Instead, please join me in muting the man altogether.

Y’all, I am struggling.

I don’t know how else to tell you than very plainly.

But before I get into it, let’s make it clear that I’m not actually struggling.

As I mentioned in my last post, the few things I’m mourning are first-world category privileges. And I’m keenly aware that while I’m grieving reunions and travel, others are grieving the lives of their loved ones. There’s a tension to processing this pandemic and its endless drain while also acknowledging my ongoing employment and good health.

In large part, the security I am experiencing has spurred me to “do my part” by donating to organizations I trust and brainstorming opportunities to feed children who are not in school (more on that to come).

But when I’m dredging through the day-to-day, I honestly feel like one inconvenience short of laying in the fetal position in bed and giving up entirely. This is constant. Each day, I get through what needs to be done and do the laundry and deliver communication collateral, and hell, this week I even pitched article ideas to the likes of Business Insider and The Huffington Post but when I go to bed at night, I know I’m merely cobbling my efforts together while resisting exhaustion and the dread of powerlessness against structures like capitalism, and oh I don’t know, political corruption.

I think Covid-19 took the wind out of all our sails sometimes around early May when it became clear its impact would continue to ripple through the fabric of our lives instead of going away like his Supreme Idiocy said it would.

Speaking of the Spud in Chief, let’s take a look at some of the headlines the USA is making this week:

Trump Wishes Well For Human Trafficker and Long-time Pal Ghislaine Maxwell

USA on Track To Reach 1 Million New Cases of Coronavirus in 2 Weeks

Unidentified Federal Agents Deploy Tear Gas Against Portland Moms in Support of Black Lives Matter

Kanye’s Bid for Presidency is Shadowed by Manic Breakdown

Florida GOP Representative Calls Respected Congresswoman AOC a “F*cking B*tch“

I think I need to go lie down after typing these out.

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This week I’ve been feeling down and being sad is rarely a subject I hesitate to talk about. I don’t think we’ve normalized having the blues or requiring the occasional cry enough.

Melancholy, in my experience, is a lot harder to name when it isn’t tethered to any single thing. Lately for me, it’s been everything. But also a ton of little things. I thought writing a list of what I am justifiably bummed about would help me feel grounded again. It did.

1. This was the first year I applied for and received a scholarship to the Festival of Faith & Writing which I was due to attend in Michigan in April (originally canceled, now digital)
2. Roy had surprised me with tickets to a music festival in Miami we were supposed to attend in May (postponed)
3. Canceled my Bachelorette weekend plans and the following travel, Roy canceled a retreat in the mountains he had planned with the guys
4. The premiere of A Quiet Place II was pushed from March to September on account of the actual dystopia occurring… and I was really excited to see it for my bday, I will never forgive John Krasinski for not replying when I tweeted I’d give him $20 to stream it
5. I’ve experienced more social anxiety over the last few months than I have in years prior
6. We reduced our wedding guest list from 75 people to 40
7. And will 85% most likely have to indefinitely postpone the wedding celebration altogether anyway

This list is peanuts in comparison to the hardship and tragedy others are experiencing at this point in history.

Yet there’s a certain comfort restored when we collectively acknowledge the millions of different ways this isn’t the year any of us imagined.

What are you mourning as a result of Covid?

I have a friend experiencing the excitement of a new relationship with a thoughtful partner she’s very fond of. We were texting earlier tonight when she suggested a trip between the two of them and Roy and I. My heart leaped.

I began brainstorming with excitement where we would go.

Then I remembered the pandemic.

The other day I was walking around the neighborhood peacefully lost in my thoughts when a stranger suddenly appeared wearing sunglasses and a medical paper mask in 90-degree heat.

I remembered the pandemic.

Although my husband and I were wed in a civil ceremony, we planned to host a larger gathering of friends and family in December. He was supposed to head to his bachelor party next weekend. I was headed overseas for my own reunion with friends next month. Both trips are no longer happening.

The wedding invites I ordered earlier this month arrived in the mail. Today I designed a note to assure our guests we are monitoring the pandemic and fully prepared to cancel the event for the safety of our loved ones, check the website for any updates.

Monitoring the pandemic.

How does one monitor a pandemic exactly? Do you count by the number of masks you see in public on any given day? The layoffs resulted? The total number of those who get sick? And what of the 120,000 people in the US that have already died?

Earlier I told another friend that being in Florida today feels like living on several different timelines. Orange County where I live has had a mask mandate for weeks. The county 15 miles north of me is still protesting one.

Much like the Western world experienced an entirely separate timeline against the virus than Wuhan, counties across Florida (and I will assume much of the country) now feel like they’re operating in completely different worlds, too.

The public perception towards COVID-19’s threat varies mile to mile stressing the political and ideological canyons that exist from person to person.

I am trying to navigate all of them as responsibly as I can. And I’m tired.

There’s no cohesive message from federal or state leadership to consider. And Americans are too entitled to inconvenience themselves for the sake of the greater good. We’ve known this.

I myself spent the last weekend in Jacksonville in an impromptu-reunion between my cousins, my mom, my aunt and my grandma. My grandma returned from being stuck in Central America for a month longer than originally planned for her vacation due to shutdowns. After her following time in quarantine, we were just excited, I guess, to finally see her.

I am embarrassed to admit we held this reunion now but Florida was “re-opening” — whatever that meant — after two months of lockdown. Restaurants and salons invited customers back, bars followed until they recently closed again and life was returning to… well, not normal but something.

Meanwhile, the state of Florida just documented 10,109 new cases of Coronavirus breaking earlier peak records.

Roy and I have no plans this Fourth of July weekend.

We have both been struggling with the increased rattle of tension we feel when we’re out in public these days and could use a return to our creature comforts for recharge. All I mean by that is I’ll most likely watch Bravo for 9 hours straight and things will feel better once I do.

At least until I remember again.