Viral Fear
The sun rose this morning.
I wondered if it would.
Not really.
I looked east as I walked into the kitchen and saw pink bands of light spreading across the horizon. I had given up on sleep an hour earlier and settled into my chair in the morning room at the back of our house. I prayed about the things that had preyed upon me through the night.
It’s been quite a week, hasn’t it? Even Cinderella, post-fairy godmother, would probably wake up on this March morning and think, “What the heck?”
A new member of the coronavirus family, Covid-19, began to make headlines in China in January. It has since traveled across the world, its spread looking like a newsreel animation of Hitler’s domination of Europe 80 years ago.
There’s no place to hide.
We can’t seek comfort in our wealth, since the stock market is about as stable as a two-legged stool.
We can’t seek comfort in our health, since the virus—a thing so tiny it can be seen only with an electron microscope—has the power to inflict a wide range of suffering, from minor illness to respiratory failure.
And, alas, we may even find it hard to seek comfort in each other, since medical experts advise “social distancing” in an effort to curb the pandemic.
But comfort can still be found.
Coronavirus wasn’t the only issue that stole my sleep last night. That list is between God and me, but I doubt if any item on it is foreign to you.
This morning, as darkness gave way to light, I was reminded of five truths:
God is in control.
I am not.
I am still a mess.
But He loves me anyway.
And He’s not done with me yet.
Perhaps we’ll emerge from this crisis with a pocketful of lessons learned. Wash your hands more thoroughly and keep them away from your face. Be vigilant about cleaning public spaces. Take responsibility for your own health, so that you’ll be less vulnerable to the next virus.
And maybe, just maybe, the admonitions we heard as children will sink in. Love your neighbor as yourself. Treat others the way you want to be treated. Keep God first in your life.
Bedtime prayers were a fixture of our sons’ childhoods, and Mr. Pettit and I took turns saying this blessing over them as we pulled up their covers and gave one last kiss:
“I love you and Papa/Mama loves you and God loves you most of all. And He’ll be right here with you all night, so you sleep tight all night.”
God is here. With you. With me.
And nothing, no matter how big (or small) can distance us from His love.
For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. Romans 8:38-39 (NRSV)
