Like all of you, I am living in a state of suspended animation during the Coronavirus Pandemic of 2020. Steve and I are still working, because the Governor of VA did not extend the tax filing date for residents of this fine state (unlike the Federal government), and so we still gotta file a bunch of folks’ tax returns by May 1. But all of my emotions are in a big knot of speechless horror covered with a thick, gooey glaze of numbness. Seeing videos of a nearly empty New York City (as residents shelter-in-place) is surreal. Watching the death count rise makes me ill. This weekend Steve and I will identify a bunch of charities to give money to, while feeling a sense of inadequacy in the face of the enormity of this crisis.
Thank God for some lovely days like this one – blue blue sky, warm temps – so I can walk or bike to work and feel more balanced.
I am vastly encouraged by all the light and love and sacrifice fitfully but persistently shown and discussed on social and other media, even with the usual fighting and partisan politics showing up in something that should unite us globally, since “novel” viruses are equal-opportunity decimators of all humans, especially the most vulnerable. It seems like there’s one thing we do all agree on: that “social-distancing” seems to help curb the spread of this scourge, that NOT being physically together with other humans – while very, very hard – is the most loving thing we can do.
I rediscovered a couple of posts I hadn’t shared yet and so I may be uploading those in the next couple of days – not as marks (ha) of indifference, but of hope. But whether I do or do not, I realize something important for me: talking about, remembering, writing about the ways I believe God is still quietly present, still working at all times in our small, individual lives, helps me get through the dark stuff.
Praying for us all.