Who’d have thunk, on New Year’s Eve, when we rang in 2020, that this was how it was going to go…

My head is still spinning. Everything has happened so suddenly. It feels like I’m still stuck somewhere between March 13 and March 14 – I’m still waiting for St. Patrick’s Day. And yet it’s Good Friday. Somehow I missed the wearin’ of the green, and being wary of the ides, and going out to eat on my birthday. I missed the making of brown e’s to give to my students. My students – how I miss my students!

I do love not having to get out of bed so early in the morning. But I’m still waking up just as early in the morning. I’m not sleeping as long and as deeply as I did before the Great Change. I’m really not doing much of anything, but I’m always tired.

Time. I’ve got so much time on my hands now. But I’m not crossing off the big things on my list. I haven’t filed my taxes. I haven’t washed the kitchen floor. I haven’t…There’s a long list of haven’ts. Because though I finally have the time, I don’t have the emotional energy or the motivation. That’s all being spent on the What if’s and the I miss’s.

We’re supposed to hit our peak in Massachusetts next week and that projected daily death count is heart wrenching. Just being able to calmly say the words “projected daily death count” is heart wrenching.

People on every continent, in every country, in every household in the world are going to feel the pain of Covid-19.

We already do. We feel the emotional pain of being cut off from loved ones. We feel the physical pain of empty arms and hands from social distancing measures. We feel the psychological pain of the fear and panic it’s causing. And the emotional drain so that sometimes we can’t even get off the couch to wash the dishes. Because, honestly, why bother? The world’s been shut down. Who cares if the sink is full of dishes?

And as I’m about to spiral down into another dark and lonely corner, I see a flicker of flame and hear a whispered, “I care.”

 

“I care.

I care about you. I care about all of you. I care about your hearts and your hopes. I hold your future – and I want to hold your fears. I am not afraid to touch you. I am not afraid to get sick for you. I am willing to die for you.”

 

It’s a whisper from the God upon the cross.

The God who took my sin for me, from me, and paid the penalty so that I could live free from fear and shame. The God Who offers to make all things new if we let Him fan the candle flame into a bonfire.

The God who loves us so intimately that He knows our deepest regrets and strongest fears, and gently takes them from us leaving his greatest Peace in their place. Because He cares.

 

This Good Friday, take a moment to spend with Him. And remember – no matter how bad the statistics get, nothing will stop Easter from coming.