My dear Globdrop,
I am pleasantly surprised to see that you have recovered so quickly from your former negligence, and made up precious time you had lost. Just this afternoon, I was about to report your blunders when your letter happened upon my desk. Brilliant, nephew, just brilliant. I would say that I knew you had it in you, but as you know, we do our best not to lie to one another. Fortunate for you, I have decided to hold my report to see how you manage this recent progress.
You write that your man has lately become friends with a girl who, on the face of it, is “tenderhearted, funny,” and of course, “not bad on the eyes.” His voice gives way in her presence. His palms cry. She makes him “smile until it hurts” and “challenges his intellect” like no female he has ever met. This is good.
You report that he has even come so far as to think — independent of your suggestions — that she really is just about perfect for him (minus that other small matter, of course). He doesn’t admit it, but he finds her exciting, refreshing, authentic. Against his better judgment, surrounded by hundreds of the Enemy’s young women, he has started to like one of ours. Our hunters have bagged many fawns like this before (they far outnumber the men), but you, Globdrop, have lured a buck. My mouth waters.
Flirt into the Dirt
Globdrop, get him to “fall for her” and they shall both fall to us. Unlike their delightful romance movies, his kiss cannot rouse her from her sleep. In real life, kissing corpses causes Prince Charming to become one. The Enemy told them to leave the dead to date the dead. He told them not to be bonded with one of ours. We are less intolerant. Let them hold hands together, fall in love, and stare deeply into each other’s eyes as we slowly lower the coffin.
Now, to avoid making another dreadful mistake, follow my instructions to the letter.
The first thing to do in this matter is to lure him in with her lostness. Few things rouse the evangelistic zeal in the youthful vermin like romantic interest. Do not despise this outright. Here — and only here — allow your man to care about her soul. “Flirt to convert” they call it. It works out brilliantly. He justifies enmeshing his heart to hers and crossing the Enemy’s boundaries because he means to save her. Allow this Noah to jump from his ark to rescue the girl. Most who go overboard never return.
As the relationship ripens and our game gets fat, you will have a new task: Convince him that she is nearly a believer. By not sleeping around, cussing, or getting drunk on the weekends, we can pass her off as practically the Enemy’s. Always just a few more inches to go.
To keep up this lie, you will need to embalm her. Color her cheeks with kindness. Groom her with worldly goodness. Animate her with familial affection. Make her look so close to living that she seems but one church attendance, one Bible study, one more deep, heart-entangling conversation away from finally stumbling into the Enemy’s arms. Make her “so close he can feel it.” We have but to hide the toe-tag.
Their Love Can Overcome
By this time, he will be more ready to listen to reason. Tell him that godliness is important — just not essential.
I know, I know, I border on blasphemy with this point. Tell him godliness is important? Yes, dear nephew, yes. It is a vile thing to tell him. But, remember, we must concede worms to catch fish. If we began with the real truth of the matter, he would never bite. Tell him godliness in a spouse is important. Tell him — all things considered — it is even to be desired. But while you gnaw your tongue while whispering such abominations, never let him conclude (with the Enemy) that it is a nonnegotiable. That is the point.
Hide the countless examples of us ruining their forefathers through spouses who worshiped foreign gods. Hide the plain instruction that he must only “marry in the Lord.” Obscure their General’s reasoning: What does dark have to do with light? Our Father with theirs? The Enemy’s son or daughter with one of ours?
Tell him, should he happen upon it, that such black-and-white thinking is outdated — it is the twenty-first century, after all. No one believes the world is flat and no one should believe that religious difference should determine whom someone loves. They can coexist.
Besides, she isn’t against his faith — she said so herself. She admitted that the Christian religion has some good teachings — see, she is open-minded. She even agreed to go to church on occasion. She isn’t dangerous to his faith. Besides, their love can overcome anything. As you tell him these things, nephew, beware not to give yourself away with laughter.
The older your man gets, the more susceptible he becomes. He is lonely. He has given more best-man speeches than Churchill during wartime. It’s his turn. He has held up his part of the bargain: He has not been sleeping around, partying too hard, or indulging in much pornography. But remind him what it has gotten him: lonely Friday nights. What has the Enemy to say for himself? He is finally discovering what our Father did so long ago: the Enemy over-promises and under-delivers.
He is drawing so near, nephew, I begin to smell him. At this crucial time, you must not let others interfere. Isolation, nephew, isolation. Leave him no one to defend him from himself. Whisper that others just won’t understand. They don’t know her like he does. Oh, and discredit the advice of most of the men in his life who discourage the relationship, because (easy for them to say) they are married.
When alone, even their strongest can fall — Samson and David defeated armies, but not eyelashes. Your trap shall catch this pigeon just as it did those eagles.
Your hungry and expectant uncle,
Credit: Greg Morse