In the group home they are waiting...
Then it finally dawned on me. The tree is a metaphor for life. It is weighed down by its branches but yet keeps growing taller and taller towards the sky.
It’s 1 in the morning and I cry out to God – "I can’t sleep. All I have in my head is pain and fear. What am I supposed to do? I’m stressed and restless and can’t sleep."
I was young and early in my career, eager to prove myself and terrified of being perceived as being anything but in total control of my charge. I was not at all happy to be outside of the walls of the school ... I did not want to be walking to church.
This is the hardest part of the pandemic for me. It feels like a personal hour of darkness.
There is a subtle panic in her eyes: she is trying to read me, trying to understand what it is I could want from her, but she picks up nothing at all from my best encouraging face.
Being part of the Body of Christ means feeling pain when parts of the Body are not in alignment, and in such a large and diverse Body this will always be the case.
Currently we can feel as though we are trapped in our homes. However, there is a window out of self-isolation into the experience of many others; those who must always do life at a slower pace.
During the time of COVID-19, many of us are experiencing solitude or the loss of communal, in-person worship in new ways. For some, this might bring on existential questions and struggles with doubt. I hope that these spiritual practices will help others in the ways that they have helped me.
While in some ways the COVID-19 pandemic is unifying the community around the globe, in others it is legitimating archaic values and hierarchies.