How to Survive in the COVID-19 Wilderness, via More to Life

As a front line healthcare worker, I spend my days navigating the overwhelming isolation and fear of patients in the midst of this brutal pandemic. The onset of COVID-19 was bad enough the first time around. Now with hospitals full again and re-instituting no visitation policies, patients are faced anew with fighting their diseases alone, the warmth and touch of their loved ones reduced to a one-dimensional blur on hospital issued iPads.

We haven’t even had time to recover from the spring. 

The resurgence of isolation-related blame and anger, frustration and sheer exhaustion overshadow COVID-19 itself, and no wonder. God realized as soon as He created us that we needed companionship, and He knows we need it now. He knows we need to love and to be loved, and that so much of that occurs in the presence of others. We are withering emotionally and spiritually as insidious fear and emotional emptiness slowly but steadily drain joy from our hearts—again. 

How and where can we find hope? CLICK HERE to read the rest of the article at More to Life Magazine.

Quarantine journals: April 18

I stopped putting a tally in this space.

All numbers do is smear and blur the pain and fear.

All numbers do is feed the enemy’s lie that it has the power.

Today I took my dog on a long walk

in the woods. Deliberately,

of course. And just to see

if there’s any marrow left in the world.

For a time

when we were out there alone and all we could hear were birds of all kinds and the swish of still bare tree limbs in the wind

I almost felt

normal

again.

Just me and him

like the good

old days—when was that?

Oh. Yes. A handful of weeks ago.

I almost couldn’t remember

the before.

Or is it just that it hurts too much

to think of all we’ve lost so

fast? “Front only the

essentials,”

Thoreau said,

“living is so dear…”

Indeed.

Quarantine Journals: April 11

I’ve always liked Holy Saturday.

Is that what it’s called?

The in between.

Good Friday and Easter get a lot of attention, and then there’s Saturday when nothing happens.

Silence.

Can you imagine being one of the disciples back then?

Abandoned.

Confused.

Hopeless.

Bewildered.

Utterly disappointed.

The One who was supposed to save was gone.

Dead.

Buried.

But then…

We know what happened.

We know that Sunday’s comin’.

We know that.

And yet,

we’re living in the middle

of one of the great *Saturdays* of our generation.

Death and despair surround us.

We feel frustrated. Afraid. Anxious. Lonely.

Defeated.

I imagine that Saturday some 2,000 years ago, Jesus wanted more than anything to tell his despairing disciples to lift up their eyes, to remember that He had not and would not fail them.

I imagine that if we quiet our trembling hearts long enough to listen, truly listen, we will hear Him again.

We will feel the tender touch of His nail-pierced hand under our chins, lifting our countenances.

We may feel that we’re surrounded, but

we’re surrounded by Him.

Saturday is deafeningly silent, but oh the sound when that stone rolls away tomorrow!

Sunday is comin’.

It always does.

Look up, dear friends.

Not to the hills. Not to the government. Not to hospitals or banks or experts or pundits. Not to our own feeble ways of coping.

Look up to His faithfulness.

Look up to His Word.

Look up, dear friends.

Because Sunday.

Because Sunday is a-comin’!

What a God we have! And how fortunate we are to have him, this Father of our Master Jesus! Because Jesus was raised from the dead, we’ve been given a brand-new life and have everything to live for, including a future in heaven—and the future starts now! God is keeping careful watch over us and the future. The Day is coming when you’ll have it all—life healed and whole.

I Peter 1:3-5 TMV