After my recent lighthearted look at filling long days (“The
Days are Just Packed”), I want to make it clear that I am vitally concerned
about the coronavirus situation and am not treating it flippantly.
But I will admit I have been at a loss as to how to deal
with it.
While I am passing the time in the comfort of my own home
in my little corner of the world, others are suffering severe anxiety, loss and
death. I can protect myself when I'm out
doing the few things that are necessary, but many others have no choice but to
be in the midst of the situation and know they are likely to be affected.
I follow the news reports. We've been to Italy and some of
the other countries and my heart bleeds for them. I feel the sadness and
despair. I watch with horror as the facts play out on my screen.
Yet I'm at a loss as to how to deal with it.
I'd like to agree with the old song "He ain't Heavy
He's my Brother " but truly I can't carry their grief. I can hardly carry my own.
In spite of the world wide pandemic, "normal"
challenges continue to exist around me.
Cancer treatments must carry on. An appendix ruptures. There's a sudden
unexpected death from a heart attack. An
ongoing battle with recurring illness. A
tooth aches. A child with autism is overly anxious. Insomnia denies a few hours
of relief. Someone is new to dialysis.
Someone struggles with COPD. A
bank account is hacked. Friends await elective surgeries that are now postponed
for who knows how long.
This is my "normal" reality. These things I am
happy to carry for my friends, family, and for my community. I'm simply at a
loss trying to deal with more.
My heart breaks for the grief of thousands whose loved ones
are suddenly taken by this illness. And for livelihoods that are lost. For life
that is disrupted beyond measure. I determine to do what I can even if that's simply staying
home, or donating to charities, or praying.
Slowly, in my exhaustion, I realize it is not mine to carry
everyone else's heaviness from all around the world.
Like many others I have found myself wondering where God is in all of it. All the "why" questions bubble up and I
plead for His help. He graciously reminds me that I'm not dealing with it
alone. "Praise be to the Lord, to God our Saviour, who daily bears our
burdens" (Psalms 68:19 NIV).
Jesus even gave us a prayer to use. He does not expect us
to deal with it alone. That's the joy of the gift of salvation.
Max Lucado wrote, "When we invite God into our world, he walks in. He brings a host of gifts: joy, patience, resilience. Anxieties come, but they don’t stick. Fears surface and then depart. Regrets land on the windshield, but then comes the wiper of prayer... Struggles come, for sure. But so does God." (from Before Amen).
I'll leave the writing of a treatise on the subject to
others who are wiser, but I can simply state my choice to believe His Word and the undeniable witness within me, and declare my trust in
the Eternal Almighty God. If I don't
have that, I have nothing and nowhere to turn.
Praying and singing songs of worship help to remind me that
though I may feel at a loss, I know the fact is that, simply put, "He's
Got the Whole World in His Hands". He is the Good Shepherd and we are the people
of His pasture (Psalm 23).
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posts. Thanks for reading my reflections.
Velma.]
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