I woke up this morning with the sun shining into my eyes from our overhead skylight.  I got up to look out our bedroom window and took special note of not taking for granted the preciousness of routine.  There was new fallen snow on the ground and I could hear the neighbour’s dog, barking at their patio door, insisting to come in after his morning ablutions.  A squawking magpie was mocking the dog from the safety of its perch on the wooden play structure my husband built for the kids when they were young.  Looking to the west, I beheld the mountains turning a familiar hue of pink, as the sun rose steadily on its natural course.  I smiled and yawned contently, enjoying the sights and sounds of the morning and then I remembered.  As familiar as this scene was to me, it was a reminder of normalcy in the middle of chaos.  Looking out my window, no one would ever suspect that anything was amiss.  Yet, I was into my second week of self-isolation, strictly adhering to the guidelines set out by government authorities to ensure my compromised immune system would not be attacked by the Covid-19 virus.  By the muffled sounds of the T.V. coming from downstairs, I already knew my husband was already up and checking the stock markets, and listening to the ongoing news updates.  I wanted to go back to bed and reboot the day, to erase the viral pandemic from my mind and just enjoy the morning.

But that’s not our reality right now.

It seems like forever since I hugged on my kids and grandbabies.  I miss the feel of little hands holding mine as they lead me to my cupboard and ask for “Grandma Treats”.  I miss sloppy kisses, and soft sighs as they curl up on my lap so I can read a storybook to them.  I miss the closeness and laughter of my adult children, conversing with one another, or teasing each other all in the same breath.  They post pictures and videos of their days so I can keep up with their activities, but it’s not the same as my being there in person and joining them in play.

Last week I wrote a “song” full of satire, making fun of this new normal.

The Covid-19 Song (My apologies to the Rolling Stones) by Lynn Dove

I can’t get no social interaction,
I can’t get that since Covid-19.
I can’t get no social interaction,
The government says it ain’t safe for me.

Gotta wash my hands over twenty seconds,
Can’t touch my nose, mouth or face.
Gotta cough into my elbow,
Can’t spread germs all over the place.

I can’t get no social interaction,
Gotta social distance since Covid-19.
Can’t shop at Walmart or eat out no more,
Gotta stock up on hand soap and hoard my T.P.

I can’t get no social interaction,
Borders are closed and airplanes won’t fly.
I can’t get no social interaction,
Don’t know how I’m gonna get by.

I can’t get no social interaction,
I can’t get that since Covid-19.
I can’t get no social interaction,
The government says it ain’t safe for me.

That was last week and I laughed at the silliness of people cleaning out grocery stores of toilet paper, but I’m not laughing this week.  When our Prime Minister spoke to our nation on Monday and said, “Enough is enough!” and angrily told all Canadians to “go home and stay home”, I knew Covid-19 was no longer a laughing matter.

Last week my daughter, Carmen was laid off from her job at a local cosmetic boutique that was forced to close its doors until this pandemic is done.  She worries about how she can pay her rent, feed her dog, pay bills.  She is worried about whether or not her wedding planned for July will need to be postponed.  My heart breaks.

My daughter, Laurelle and daughter-in-law, Chandler who both run dayhomes, have had to make tough decisions whether to open or close their homes to the kids they look after.  My son-in-law has seen the company he works for lay off their employees.  He has so far been spared. Teacher friends of mine are working from home, teaching online classes AND caring for their own children.  I know several in the medical profession who are on the front lines of fighting this virus, and the exhaustion, and worry is taking a huge physical toll on these courageous workers.  It is the least I can do to stay home, self-isolate, so I do not add to their workload by getting or contributing to the spread of this horrible virus.

In the midst of this I lean on God.  I know He understands my anxieties, and He listens to my tear-drenched prayers.  His mercies ARE NEW every morning!

Last night we met with our small group from our church in a video conferencing chat.  There are a lot of negatives associated with technology, but last night I was so thankful to see my friends and spend time with them in prayer.  Our Pastor has organized a community-wide prayer meeting by video conferencing.  He and his staff, have had a powerful online ministry since all churches were told not to meet in-house anymore until the pandemic is over.  I listen to the online Sunday services and their short Facebook devotions they post everyday and feel so encouraged!

I had a phone conversation with Carmen, and pondered out loud to her whether this pandemic was God using it to “reboot the world”.  I had seen some videos of swans and dolphins in the canals in Venice for the first time in years, now that the waterways were devoid of boat traffic.  The air quality around the world was improving as a result of fewer people on the streets and roadways.  I also recounted the numerous acts of kindness we were now seeing.  Neighbours helping neighbours.  Even physical distancing ourselves was not detouring people from delivering groceries to doors, or photographers offering “porch portraits” to families who were self-isolating.  Children colouring pictures and posting them in the windows to cheer people as they drove or walked by.  People posting words of affirmation and encouraging scripture online to combat the negativity that is prevalent with this world crisis.

This scripture has impacted me this week like never before:

2 Corinthians 12:7-10 The Message (MSG)

“Because of the extravagance of those revelations, and so I wouldn’t get a big head, I was given the gift of a handicap to keep me in constant touch with my limitations. Satan’s angel did his best to get me down; what he in fact did was push me to my knees. No danger then of walking around high and mighty! At first I didn’t think of it as a gift, and begged God to remove it. Three times I did that, and then he told me,

My grace is enough; it’s all you need.
My strength comes into its own in your weakness.

Once I heard that, I was glad to let it happen. I quit focusing on the handicap and began appreciating the gift. It was a case of Christ’s strength moving in on my weakness. Now I take limitations in stride, and with good cheer, these limitations that cut me down to size—abuse, accidents, opposition, bad breaks. I just let Christ take over! And so the weaker I get, the stronger I become.”

I have often wondered this week whether or not I would be glad for this season of trial.  First with my latest battle with cancer, and now the challenges facing us all with the Covid-19 pandemic.  I know if I focus on the circumstances I will become disheartened, but I can already see Christ move in my weakness, fill me with good cheer, and imbue me with strength I never knew I had.

How about you?