Seems like it was only a couple of weeks ago when things had gotten so busy and hectic, I said, “Please, stop the merry-go-round. I want to get off.” Little did I know it would only be a few days later when I would get my wish. I am now off the merry-go-round, like much of the world, and keeping my social distance by staying at home because of the coronavirus. Hey, I didn't really mean it!
Oddly enough, I have already seen some benefits from this hiatus. For instance, I know, now, that my husband hates for me to toss dead flowers off the back deck. And he knows, now, that I would love for him to stop wearing his ratty clothes from high school. I have also learned that I can’t roll my eyes when I’m standing at the kitchen sink because he can see my reflection in the window.
These past few weeks have seemed very surreal as we have kept one foot in our normal world, going about business as usual, while dipping the other foot in some sort of really bizarre science fiction movie. It felt like a tedious balancing act that could go either way until at some point last week, we tipped over completely and fell headfirst into parts unknown.
I’ll admit, it took me a while to grasp the seriousness of what was happening. I felt like Flu A was saying, “Hey, but what about me? Look at all the people I have killed!” But when I couldn’t find one potato or one piece of chicken anywhere, my head began to spin. After all, I was responsible for a campus full of women and children. What about them? I’ll admit, it was a little daunting. Suddenly the toilet paper scare reached a whole new level. As many action heroes as we have found clogging toilets, I could only imagine if people had to start getting creative.
I was part of a video conference this week with nearly 100 people from non-profits across the country, most of whom were self-quarantined at home. (Am I the only one who thinks that feels like a Jetson’s cartoon? I get distracted by these rare peeks into everyone’s private homes, and I can’t help but wonder how many are wearing pajamas from waist down.) Everyone was eager to report on how they were turning lemons into lemonade. There were some creative ideas to serve more people in slightly different ways, use technology to stay connected with volunteers, and offer networking opportunities to help each other. But the elephant in the room was that we were all concerned about how the recent events might affect our funding, which would directly impact the people we serve.
This discussion suddenly brought me back to a time in the very beginning days of Blue Monarch when money was scarce, and I didn’t have what I needed to pay our electric bill. I vividly remember looking at all our women and children at the kitchen table, wondering to myself, “What in the world will happen to all these people if they have to leave?” I was in a total panic and thought my heart would beat right out of my chest. Naturally, I protected them from the truth as if they were my children and kept the crisis to myself. This fear followed me home that evening where I had a big crying fit with God. “Why in the world did you ask me to do this if you weren’t going to provide the resources to make it happen?!”
Suddenly, just as clear as day, I heard God speak to me. “You are the one who makes it so hard – by not trusting me.” This stopped me in my tracks. Could that be true? Had I not trusted him?
I began to realize this was painfully true. By trying to do everything in my own power, I had not trusted God to take care of us. He was so right. After all, Blue Monarch belongs to him, not me. What was I thinking?
The other day when I looked at all our many families and began to question whether we had what they needed for an extended period of time (including toilet paper!), I was aware that this crisis was quite different. True, we needed to prepare, but I was not operating out of panic and fear as I had all those years before, when our biggest problem was not a pandemic but a silly electric bill.
In fact, the day our staff left the campus to work from home, with laptops and notebooks in hand, I could not have felt more at peace. I was proud of how we had prepared our live-in staff members to care for our community in our absence. I was relieved that we had the technology to continue counseling and holding classes from a distance, so our women didn’t have gaps in their recovery journeys – or feel abandoned. I was excited about all the fun activities our amazing team had prepared so our moms could engage with their children and bond with each other during this time.
It was comforting to know that our residents were, surprisingly, not in a panic. In fact, some were even singing worship songs as we walked out the door. Kids were laughing on the playground and our dog, Sam, was playing chase with a boy as they raced back and forth across our new land. In the distance I could see the stakes in the ground marking the magnificent eight-family home we are getting ready to build. For a moment I could even imagine moms and kids playing on the porch.
As I drove out, one of our graduates passed me in the driveway with news she had been laid off. I was thankful she and our other WINGS graduates had a safe place to live until they could work again. I could only imagine how difficult this time might be for them if they were on their own somewhere else.
As I looked back at our beautiful campus, not sure when I would return, I was overwhelmed with gratitude for our loving God and all the gracious, generous people who voluntarily, under no obligation, provide this beautiful sanctuary and umbrella for the women and children in our care. This is not the first crisis for any one of them, but I thank God they get to survive this one from a little piece of heaven.
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A few months ago, my husband and I went to the beach. I love to go in the winter when no one is around. The power of the massive water and rushing waves are always so mesmerizing to me, I could watch them forever. But I made an interesting discovery one day. When I closed my eyes, I realized I could actually hear the waves more clearly. They were suddenly much louder and seemed even more powerful. I was more aware of the various bird calls and the distant bark of a dog. I thought, “Isn’t that interesting! I can see better with my eyes closed.”
The same thing is going to happen to many of us during this time we have stepped off the merry-go-round. I am aware that our prayer lists are massive and extend beyond our families and communities to the entire globe. But I pray we will use this unexpected opportunity to discover what God really wants us to hear. I suspect we will see him more clearly, and his voice will become much louder... if we will just take a deep breath and shut our eyes.
Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Philippians 4:6-7
