Scripture Reading: “But he answered me, “My grace is always more than enough for you, and my power finds its full expression through your weakness.” So I will celebrate my weaknesses, for when I’m weak I sense more deeply the mighty power of Christ living in me.” 2 Corinthians 12:9
Sitting in my office on March 13, I watched, stunned, as the Governor closed all Virginia schools for two weeks, and I tried to wrap my brain around what the break from school would look like for me, my daughter, and my family. I wrote a schedule for our days: up and showered by 9, bible study together at the dining room table, English or Algebra work, exercise outside, and chores. There would be a family lunch, a break time, followed by more school. We would make dinner together, wind down for the evening, and go to bed by 10. I threw the schedule away by the second day. I think my early attempts at controlling the experience of pandemic for my family speaks to a greater faith issue I’ve uncovered in myself. I don’t trust God to be in control, so I try to be.
It didn’t take long before my attempts at control utterly failed. I just wasn’t able to orchestrate an Instagram-worthy quarantine. I found I couldn’t bear the sound of the television, so we listened to worship music on repeat - sometimes the same song, over and over. I didn’t learn how to bake bread. I completely lost my cool with my daughter and slammed every door between the garage and my bedroom. I couldn’t stay on top of my own transition to working from home while managing my daughter’s academic load, too. So I didn’t.
Instead, our pandemic has been slow and quiet. We’ve been walking down our country road daily and slowed down enough to notice the change from winter to spring. We watched as daffodils bloomed, then tulips, irises, and now peonies and honeysuckle. We noticed trees flowering and the birds who live in our backyard. We’ve sat on the porch together, watching our neighbors bale hay. We’ve called friends and Zoomed and laughed and cried.
It’s almost a cliché to say this now. But I’ve learned that it’s OK to not be OK. God doesn’t need me to be high functioning in the middle of a global pandemic. My family is going to be OK if we don’t get out of our pajamas, if we eat salsa for lunch, if we’re still up watching Netflix at 11 PM. My relationship with my daughter is going to survive the pandemic even if I hide in my room and lock the door for a couple hours. I’m still an awesome woman of God if I dwell on one line of scripture every day instead of using this time to deep dive into Ephesians. I’m still a great employee if I need to establish and enforce boundaries about how long I will devote my attention in a Zoom meeting or when I’ll respond to an email. If I need more help, in the form of counseling, that’s OK, too.
In fact, God’s goodness, mercy, and power are more precious and obvious when my attempts at control have finally frayed. I’m so grateful for the evidence I’ve seen, over and over, of how God has been orchestrating my peace in the midst of this season, coordinating precious moments of laughter for me and my daughter, giving me moments of silence when I’m overwhelmed with the noise of news and commentary.
As we transition to a life after this pandemic, I pray that I won’t forget these lessons. I pray that I won’t step back into the life I had before without really considering the cost to my peace.
Prayer: Lord, you have our attention. Please, Lord, reveal to us what you would have us take away from this season. Show us what we need to leave in our “pre-pandemic” lives. Show us what we need more of in our lives now. Be ever present, Lord, and teach us how to be more like You.