God, Guns and Trump - Three Words That Don’t Belong Together

and other stabs to the heart

Hello Friend,

Towering above the 40 ft. recreational vehicle that’s parked two rows in front of us, the American flag gently waves its red, white, and blue. Positioned directly underneath, flowing just as proudly, a Maga flag; GOD, GUNS, and TRUMP. All caps. As if that’s not a brash enough declaration, in a tad bit smaller lettering, but not small enough you have to squint, SAVE AMERICAN AGAIN 2024, printed underneath.

In the same instant, what the fuck slips out of my mouth, my skin contracts.

What’s wrong, my husband ever attuned to the tone of my F-bombs.

Check out the flag. For god sake, he’s the great American horror story we need to be saved from.

You see a lot of that in the RV community.

American flags, Trump 2024, Go Brandon, Maga hat-wearing folk. It shouldn’t shock me, we’ve been RVers for over 20 years observing plenty of strange along the way; owners walking cats on leashes, a large elderly woman calmly sipping her morning cuppa, staring out the front windshield proudly unadorned, posted signs upon entry - register your weapons at the office, and why in the world does this require a post - if you have diarrhea don’t use the pool. Along with many a red baseball cap with white embroidered lettering.

Listening to, or reading, any number of global horror stories written every day, my heart’s a bloody piece of meat dripping with sorrow, also conflicted. I want to be a better person, a conscious citizen doing my part to serve the planet. I really do. Yet, here we are traveling around the western United States in a 25,000 lb. diesel pusher home on wheels. Let’s face it, that’s not treading lightly upon the earth.

Yet, I enjoy it.

I get to sleep in my very own bed, take daily showers, prepare healthy meals, bring our dog along, and visit places we might not otherwise have the opportunity to explore. Zion, Bryce Canyon, Yellowstone, Yosemite, Olympic Peninsula, Crater Lake, and the rugged jaw-dropping Oregon coast.

While I write, the computer on my lap, we’re headed south to Tubac, Arizona to meet up with my friend and co-facilitator where she and I will lead a five-day full moon retreat. I mean other than a few wrong turns leading us down endless one-lane dusty god-forsaken roads, a plumbing leak flooding the entire coach, and a ten-year-old Wheaton Terrier who suffers from gastrointestinal problems desperate to poop with no place to stop safely, it’s a blast.

Then, ya know, the proud boys, because make no mistake, they walk among us, packing, swilling, and swaggering through the RV parks. They also help guide you, with precise and perfect instructions, into narrow, angled, and very difficult to back into assigned spots. All with a big ole’ genuine smile on their face. It’s a challenge to reconcile.

Each morning I take a brisk two-mile walk around the park, determined to say hello, all friendly-like, and start a conversation with God, Guns, and Trump. We’re at the park for six days so I feel certain an opportunity will present itself. Much to my disappointment but my husband’s relief, none does. Nada, no one to be seen. Which is unnerving in its own way.

I’m trying to educate myself.

Learn the tenets that the Christian Nationalists abide by to understand their motivation and end game. Similar to many religions, like Catholicism that I grew up in, later to leave the church, there are different branches under the umbrella of Christianity. Some are more conservative than others. From what I’m learning, Christian Nationalists and followers of the NAR, New Apostolic Reformation, (juggle the words and you get NRA) who hold seats in our government, not only do not care that Trump is a bully, but the majority of its members, trickling from the top down, applaud his behavior. Trump is exactly what the leaders of these organizations want. A bully. As does a good percentage of the American public. These extremist groups do not want a president in office who will undermine what they deem to be the highest order of Christian values - their definition. Nor make compromises for the “good of the country”, as they believe former presidents Ronald Reagan and George W. Bush did for all their talk of God and country.

Ministers with large congregations pray, and strategize, for a president they trust will bring the goal of white Christian privileged authority, over the people’s United States of America, to fruition. They want absolute power over our diverse collective America. Yours and mine.

Hence, unwavering support of Trump, the self-anointed one as he thinks of himself. Now the candidate for the Republican Party. What was not long ago considered fringe groups, Trump has proudly emboldened them to be mainstream. If elected, Trump and his cohorts will help conquer the seven “mountains” that certain factions of the Right deem in dire need of transformation with their particular brand of Christianity, control, and power.

The Seven Mountains

1. Education

2. Religion

3. Family

4. Business

5. Government/Military

6. Arts/Entertainment

7. Media

The so-called good news.

According to Christian Nationalists, if you’re other than white and Christian, you are allowed to live peacefully next to your neighbor.

Bad news.

However, don’t expect to advance your life or your children’s lives in any purposeful or meaningful way. It will not be tolerated.

Make No Mistake.

Trump and the Christian Nationalists are on a march to destroy democracy.

While Maga followers choose to believe that Trump will lead them to the promised land, they are instead being led to autocracy.

Yes, I am learning, However, instead of feeling relief, I’m more frightened than ever.

Maybe even scared shitless.

My husband and I readily admit to being “glampers” who against much advice from a few friends and family members remain non-gun-toting. We don’t require 5-star amenities to make us happy, yet we do hope to feel safe on the road and where we camp. But truthfully, who is safe anymore, anywhere? At the very least, we’d like not to feel threatened when traveling. Instead, we wish to continue to find joy and beauty and wonder in the glorious landscape of our country. To find common ground with those we meet along the way.

With the setting sun, dust kicking up, and tumbleweeds rolling across the highway, my husband and I pull in for the night at a small out-of-the-way park. We look at one another, sleepy-eyed but now fully awake, when I murmur, maybe some pepper spray?

Sage Sanctuary, with Paulette, is a reader-supported publication. If you enjoy reading Sage Sanctuary and want to support independent writing please consider becoming a paid subscriber for discounted savings.

With love and appreciation, Paulette

Work 1 to 1 With Me