while we wait for the cure


I don't ever want to know what the future weather holds.

If it is Monday, I don't need to know that it is snowing on Wednesday.

This is partly because I hate the snow, dread the winter, and that seasonal depression, my friends, is a real thing.

The other part has to do with having lived through so many tragedies, I have learned and never forgotten, that tomorrow is not promised...heck, lunch isn't promised...and so why waste time worrying about something that might happen, that you are not guaranteed to be around for?

And yet we need to plan, right?

It is the smart thing to do.

Even God calls us to be prepared.

Here's the problem I run into, though. Striking a healthy balance.

Prepare without fear. Plan without worry. Trust without doubt.

It's like I was born with the inability to live in the grey area.

All or nothing, baby. Go big or go home.

If I jump head first into the prepping and planning, my mind is instantly flooded with fear.

But if I stay on the shore with my eyes closed shut, they will have to open sooner than later...and what I am eventually forced to look at just might kill me on the spot.

So, for all of us who have no grey area, where are we safe to run to?

Because, to be honest...with social media as our only means of socializing, I find very little comfort and zero safety in showing up vulnerable. If I over react, well then...I am a silly over reactor. But if I under react, well then, I am an ignorant idiot.

Where is the love?

Where is the support?

Where are the people who are willing to listen without throwing stones?

Where is the person ready to understand without having to agree?

And yet, this is where our present trouble excites me.

Yes, I said excites, because I know just enough right now, in the midst of the mess, to believe that God is 100% working. I am confident there is a lesson to be learned and that this lesson is no longer optional for mankind, but mandatory for all of us, so you better sharpen your pencil, arrive to class on time, and sit up and pay attention.

Why do I sense that while we homeschool our children, we, too, have been called into the classroom?

Because while I remain in this forced silence, this is what I hear:

The only way for us to prepare for the world wide battle we are in, is not to fight, but to surrender.

To be still.

Stand our ground.

And patiently wait.

It is what God has been asking of us throughout the entire Bible for thousands of years.

We need to stop running out for toilet paper.

Bread.

Milk.

Or whatever that thing is that you are so afraid you can not live without.

And instead, run to our Heavenly Father.

Fly to our spiritual Mother.

Take our eyes off of the crisis and put them on Christ, because honestly, there is nothing else we can do.

And there is nothing more important.

Does it hurt to let go of community? The Eucharist? Face to face conversation, hugging a friend, our small group Bible studies, simply being with each other? Absolutely. It is one of the stranger situations I have ever been in. I lived through a massive earthquake, mass school shooting, a conspiracy theory target, a destructive tornado, devastating snow storm, and life without any electricity, and four small children, who had to learn how to breath without the internet for weeks. But what consoled me in those tragedies was getting out of myself, and running into community. Gathering together. Finding peace in other human beings, and comfort in their understanding embrace. This call to social distance, to isolate, stay inside, keep to yourself...it is nothing short of unnatural. It goes against our human instinct. So often when tragedy hits, the knee jerk reaction is to reach out, deliver a meal, hold a hand in prayer, offer communion.

So where does this leave us?

With God.

With ourselves stripped of everything we use to bury ourselves underneath, in an attempt to ignore His presence.

With this empty space and nothing but time to reflect on our personal virus, our deep soul sickness, the illness that persists in our hearts because we have resisted looking at it, bringing it to our Divine Healer, and asking to be cured.

With our vocation as mothers slapping us in the face, pulling us out of our mini vans and carpools and over scheduled lives, reintroducing us to our children, our spouses, and our dinner tables.

I am not sure where we stand on our toilet supply here, but I can say this with confidence.

There is a lesson in this for all of us.

That while we watch in fear a world infected with death, there is a Healer in our midst who is about to make all things new.

That while we sit and wait for a cure for everyone else, God breaks through and into our lives, healing those pieces of us that have infected our hearts for more years than we are willing to admit.

Still feel the need to do something? Take some sort of action?

Pray.

Just pray, sweet friend.

Let God fight this battle for you.

Then go wash your hands and clean your home, but always remember that God is our Commander in this battle, God is in control, and it is God, and God alone, who sanitizes the soul.

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