Hard

Today’s topic was supposed to be a recap of March’s stuff.

Instead, my mind is filled with what many in this digital age and in this digital time have called Grief.  Stupid, Stupid Coronavirus.  Stupid Coronavirus.  

I don’t care, for my sake, that we are holed up in our house.  I actually love that part.  It’s just hard to see my kids hurting.  And I know others are feeling the same way and working through it so we can too.  I get that.  But allow me to grieve for a few moments.  

My son, who was having the time of his life at college, came home for spring break and hasn’t gone back.  His dorm room  sits silent as a tomb with all of his things there, waiting.  My heart is broken for him.  

My daughter is going to “graduate” (we homeschool that is always a nebulous term), in May and now will not “walk” but will sit in her room and paint and talk to her friends via FaceTime.  Her senior pictures will be taken by me, or if our local leaders lift the shelter-in-place ban in two weeks, by a friend.  She wants to work, but her job doing childcare at our local YMCA, let her go.  

My 14 year old daughter, though an introvert, has had such a good time at our local homeschool co-op.   She will probably not be able to do her huge end of the year “Mock Trial” presentation.  The offer is to do it via Zoom, but there is no fun in that.  She doesn’t get to act in the part of the accused.  

My 11 year old son, will not get to finish the co-op at all.  Thankfully, the big project was finished at the beginning of February, but there will be no end of year celebration with his friends. 

So much grief…

And heart aches for those, like my parents, who have been sheltering in place for 2 weeks or more already.  My heart aches because we haven’t seen friends for two weeks.  (Except for the time we both ended up at Lowes. Shhhh don’t tell anyone.  It wasn’t planned.)  My heart aches for missing corporate worship at our local church we attend. 

We’re trying here.  We’re trying by having Zoom calls, by FaceTiming more, by planting more lavender, by exercising, by finding projects.  I did a two day project of making sourdough and posted it on IGTV.  (@red_corner_house).  My in-person class was cancelled so I had to do it somehow.  

I went for a quick walk Friday morning and because I forgot my phone, my ear buds connected to my watch.  Ellie Holcolmb was chosen.  And the first song on her newest (I think) album is Red Sea Road.  

The words resonated.  

We, buried dreams
Laid them deep into the earth behind us
Said, our goodbyes
At the grave but everything reminds us
God knows, we ache
When He asks us to go on
How do we go on?

We will sing, to our souls
We won't bury our hope
Where He leads us to go
There's a red sea road
When we can't, see the way
He will part the waves
And we'll never walk alone
Down a red sea road

How, can we trust
When You say You will deliver us from
All, of this pain, that threatens to take over us
Well, this desert's dry
But the ocean may consume
And we're scared, to follow You

So we will sing, to our souls
We won't bury our hope
Where He leads us to go
There's a red sea road
When we can't, see the way
He will part the waves
And we'll never walk alone
Down a red sea road

Oh help us believe
You…

In our Morning Prayer on Sunday, Psalm 66 was the Psalm for the service. The Psalms, written sometimes during David’s hard life, always circled round to the greatness of God and this one is no different. Here are the last few verses. May we remember this as we go through this trial.

19 But truly God has listened;
    he has attended to the voice of my prayer.
20 Blessed be God,
    because he has not rejected my prayer
    or removed his steadfast love from me!

May we remember that God hears our cries. He is faithful. Help us to remember this as we continue down the road.