Holding onto Hope

Shelter-in-place. Social distancing. Coping with this new – at least for the time-being – normal has not been easy. It is not easy. My husband and I made the decision yesterday to ask my daughter and her family not to come over for a couple of weeks. This broke my heart. It’s the last thing I wanted to do. I’ve tried to maintain a hopefulness that we could completely avoid coming in contact with the coronavirus, but the news continually forecasts otherwise. But recognizing that every time one of us goes into public, we are risking exposure. Hearing the constant updates of increasing numbers affected in the United States is unsettling.

My son-in-law is an essential employee, so he still goes out to work every day. My daughter works from home, but still takes her baby to daycare so she can focus on work during her work hours five-days each week. Every time I go to the grocery store, I feel like I have to start my day-count over for when I may or may not have been exposed to the disease. (Although I’m unsure how many days to count until I know if I’m in the clear.) My husband is working from home, and all my classes through the University of Iowa have transformed to online learning, so the only reason we really have to leave the house is if we need food.

Despite the precautionary measures taken in attempts to stay safe and healthy, I hold onto hope. Hope that my family and friends will stay safe. Hope that I will stay safe. Yesterday morning I woke up early and briefly checked Facebook. In doing so, the first four of five posts contained daunting news or updates of the progression Covid-19 has made in the United States. I went back to bed trying to fall asleep. But all I could think about was the devastation and disease that is rapidly spreading. Then hope stepped in. Hope in the form of a song.

Sunday morning, I watched The House’s live-stream Worship service. While they typically record their services, this time was different. The team was paired down to the bare minimum needed to produce the service – safely spaced at least six-feet apart. Pastor Jen on piano. Pastor Greg played guitar and preached. Pastor Chris led prayer. The stage was arranged differently to accommodate the new and temporary service format, making it easier to include both musicians and a large monitor with announcements and song lyrics on screen. One of the songs they sang had the lyrics, “What a powerful name it is / what a powerful name it is / the name of Jesus Christ my king. / What a powerful name it is / nothing can stand against / what a powerful name it is / the name of Jesus.”

These lyrics mingled with the thoughts of fear that tried to take over, as if waging a war that I never wanted to take part in. Every time panic tried to creep in, peace would push through. Even though we ultimately decided to limit how much we had outside contact, that decision stemmed more out of caution than panic. Sometimes we have to use wisdom and make hard choices. But that doesn’t mean we allow fear to guide our lives. Like Pastor Greg said on Sunday, God didn’t do this. He didn’t cause this disease as some sort of punishment for the sin in this world. But God can still help good be a final result.