Does anyone remember April? Seriously, where did it go? The month of March felt like the longest decade of my entire existence, but somehow, I fell asleep on March 31st and woke up in mid-May. I don’t think I could testify truthfully to what I did in April, even under penalty of death. I ate. I slept. I lost my sanity, my motivation and half of my Facebook friends. The rest is a bit of a blur.
Decades from now, when I look back on this season of our lives, I think the blurriness is what I will most remember. There are grand-scale themes that will come to mind, of course. Heartbreaking death tolls and unknown timelines for the future, just to start, but I will remember feeling wrapped in a pervasive fog that kept my mind from focusing too intently on the little details.
What an ironic statement: I will clearly remember the fog.
I will also remember this as a season of unmet expectations. Granted, this is my first global pandemic, so my expectations weren’t high. I expected coronavirus to continue its blaze of physical devastation across our world and our nation, and it has. What I didn’t expect was the effect an invisible virus could have on compassion and kindness and the pillars of basic humanity.
As sad as this statement is, I expected that innocent people would die and too many would suffer. It’s a pandemic. That’s what pandemics do. What I didn’t expect was the wicked polarization of a people who one month ago were campaigning with #inittogether and #inittoendit and who are now campaigning with #COVIDIOTS and a resurgence of #donttreadonme.
I expected tensions to rise each day as the financial toll of the virus seeped deeper and deeper into the economy like a poisonous vaper from a leaky gas pipe. I did not expect coronavirus to so viciously attack America by destroying the bonds that tie us together.
I expected better of us. I surely expected better of myself.
Point blank, I am guilty. I have my opinions, and many of you know what they are. I’m not shy about what I believe when given a platform to project the written word. You have your opinions, too, and many of you are just as adamant in your stance as I am in mine. That’s cool. We can still be friends. Truly, I’m not at all opposed to opinions that differ from mine, but I didn’t expect the name-calling. I didn’t expect to be called a blind sheeple, a “normally intelligent” individual except in how I’m handling coronavirus, or – my personal favorite – the reason why Hot Pockets come with cooking instructions because I’ve worn a mask in my car.
Humor. Har.
Not that anyone could see under the mask, but I laughed at that one; I really did.
If I’m being honest, there’s a lot more going on underneath my mask. I can laugh when the situation calls for it, but under the mask I’m also struggling. I’m struggling because as much as I want to meet the expectations of others, I know that I can’t. I’m struggling with a loss of respect for people who, at the end of the day, are just as human and imperfect as I am.
I’m tired. I’m tired of making decisions about how to safely navigate this new normal. I’m weary from the weight of decisions that could harm someone unnecessarily if I make the wrong choice as a leader, a wife, a mother, a friend. I don’t fear the virus, but I do fear unknowingly carrying the virus to someone who may not be able to weather it well – and that burden is exhausting.
I don’t know what to believe anymore. Who is trustworthy? What is true? And where is God in the midst of circumstances that aren’t turning out at all like I envisioned them?
Walking in Circles
I can’t help but wonder if maybe this was how the Israelites felt standing at the walls of Jericho. For forty years, the children of God wandered in the desert, lost because of their own disobedience. They circled the same rocks and fought the same battles, taking step after step but not getting any closer to their real destination. They walked. And walked. And walked some more.
Then, the glorious time came, and they were led out of the wilderness through (another) dry riverbed. Manna became a distant memory because for the first time in decades they ate from the harvest of the land, a land flowing with milk and honey. The pillar of clouds that had led them for years was no longer needed because their wandering was at an end. Finally. Finally, the Israelites entered the land of Canaan, their Promised Land. The Bible tells us that immediately after crossing the Jordan into the land of Canaan, peace reigned supreme. The people rode their donkeys into the sunset and lived happily ever after in harmony with their neighbors… The End. Such a beautiful story.
Oh, my friend, wouldn’t that have been nice? To leave a 40-year quarantine and be transported immediately into a peaceful paradise?
What the Bible actually says is that the waters of the Jordan returned to flood stage, the Israelite warriors endured a painful circumcision at the ripe old age of adulthood, and the mass of people took two steps forward and smacked face first into the walls of Jericho.
Bet that wasn’t what they were expecting, after wandering the wilderness lo’ so many years. Bet the last thing they wanted to do after decades of walking was… more walking.
Unmet expectations, meet thy king.
And let’s not forget the best part, the icing on the cake:
Joshua had given orders to the people, ‘Don’t shout. In fact, don’t even speak – not so much as a whisper until you hear me say, ‘Shout!’, then shout away!’
Joshua 6:10 MSG
Cliff Notes version: Don’t just keep walking. Hush and keep walking.
I have often thought to myself, “Self, it’s a good thing you weren’t born an Old Testament Israelite.” Maybe forty years of wandering by the same cactus would have chilled me out, but I can tell you that forty days of quarantine has not had that effect. If anything, I’m more frustrated than ever, shorter-tempered, and my brain-to-mouth filter broke about a week ago. Being ordered to hush and keep walking? Match to dry kindling.
Would I have walked around the walls of Jericho? Probably. I am a rule-follower at heart, so if I’m told to do something, I will generally do it. Knowing myself as well as I do, though, my obedience would have been served with a hefty helping of attitude. I would have stomped around that stupid wall for six solid days, but I would not have been happy about it. My silent-treatment game would have been epic because why be just a rule-follower when you can be a passive-aggressive rule-follower? There’s a good chance I would have picked up a flintstone and etched angry faced emojis and #Joshuahaslostit into the wall during our rest breaks. By day seven? I would have been less hostile on day seven only because I would have worn myself out by then.
Much like I’m doing now. I’m wearing myself out fighting a battle for which I was never enlisted, a battle against the wrong enemy.
Is that where you find yourself today, my friend? Are you staring at the walls of Jericho in your life, convinced this couldn’t have been the plans of a loving God? Are you fighting against friends and family, less sure who is on your side or even what the right side is? Are you facing the world with a mask that projects strength and endurance, yet you’re not sure how much longer you can walk around walls that refuse to fall?
I am so thankful to serve a God who not only allows me to take off the mask I wear for others, He gently peels my mask away so He can speak straight to the heart of my uncertainty. He knows I am tired, and He gives me rest. He knows my doubts and my fears and still adores the girl I am behind the mask. Even as I exhaust myself with my passive-aggressiveness, He is merciful and whispers, “Hush, child. Just walk.”
Friends, let’s never forget that He’s still in the business of making walls fall. That’s His job, and He’s good at it. My job is to walk in obedience without complaining until the time comes to shout. I haven’t been called to tear down walls. I have been called to take one step after another even when the path doesn’t make any sense.
Conserve your energy, my friend. Put down the weapons and walk with me. The time to shout is coming, but if the walls are still standing, we’re not done walking.
Hush. And keep walking.
Trust in and rely confidently on the Lord with all your heart and do not rely on your own insight or understanding. In all your ways know and acknowledge and recognize Him, and He will make your paths straight and smooth [removing obstacles that block your way].
Proverbs 3:5-6