When Does Recovery Come?

Yesterday I wrote that 35,000 people have died worldwide.  Today, so far the number is 41,000. To really get yourself down about all this, go to this Corona Virus site.  It's broken down by countries and also tells the number of recoveries, which is encouraging to follow. Recovery is what we all long for. Recovery of illness. Recovery of jobs. Recovery of the stock market. Recovery of my calendar. Recovery of my fragile state of mind.

Today was one interruption after another. I did it to myself. All good. All created and allowed by me. But here I am writing at the end of the day when I fully intended to make it a morning priority. Instead I managed to distract myself from one thing to another - maybe fear had gripped me. I just felt agitated - and I didn't even have on the news!  But then I walked outside to be greeted by the Cherokee Blaze dogwood tree that has popped into full bloom. The morning rain had washed off the yellow pollen and behold.....the tree itself has recovered. 

Did I say recovered? Two years ago, Mike carefully planted the tree next to our porch. We waited and the next spring the tree had no blooms. Last year, after coaxing and fertilizing and pruning away a much overgrown myrtle, the tree had two blooms. We had hope.  This year was going to be the year it either made it or not.  Many days through the winter I would report, "We've got 10 buds on the tree." Then we had 20, then 30, then 40. And today, we celebrate the recovery of our Cherokee Blaze. I'll add that to my gratitude list.

Some things are worth waiting for. Nature always teaches me.  Yes, we could have given up too soon, pulled up the 2-bloom tree that cost $200. But we nurtured it, gave it more sunlight, and waited. Things take time. And on this last day of a most unusual March, we head into a month of unusual days. We wait to recover, but we must not waste this time - like I almost did today. 

We must work on our prayer life. Meditation and scripture memory is an idea. We practice the cello that's been in the closet (no, I don't play, but a friend does), we read a really long book, like my all time personal favorite Sacajawea by Anna Waldo Smith (it's just 1400 pages).

We work on our conversation skills with one another - from a distance - and with love.  

And from God's Word:

Psalm 39:4-5 “LORD, remind me how brief my time on earth will be. Remind me that my days are numbered–how fleeting my life is. You have made my life no longer than the width of my hand. My entire lifetime is just a moment to you; at best, each of us is but a breath.”

Ephesians 5:15-17 So be very careful how you live. Do not live like those who are not wise, but live wisely. Use every chance you have for doing good, because these are evil times. So do not be foolish but learn what the Lord wants you to do.

Faithful, Not Fearful

"Look at the flowers.....they do not worry or toil." Matthew 6:28

I called my sister this morning to check on her. She told me she was getting tired of social distancing but was filling her days with writing notes, telephoning relatives and friends, and disinfecting her house. She reminded me that I used to make note cards and asked if I could send her more. She said writing to others was a way for her to process our world in this 2020 COVID 19 crisis. She said she was trying to be faithful in what she could do and not fearful about what she had little control over. I love my sister. 

The conversation not only motivated me to do something productive with my day, but also made me think of  things I used to do as I processed a great loss. Indeed, note cards were a craft therapy and I cranked out quite a few. Daffodil cards mostly - giving them away gave me a focus and purpose when the world had been pulled out from under my feet. "Do something with your pain," the grief experts advise.

And while at present the pandemic has not touched my tiny corner of the world, I know it is real and scary. I watch the first responders on the news and my heart breaks for the many who are affected. To date 35,000 people have died worldwide. Those are mothers, fathers, sons and daughters. The grief and sorrow is palpable. It weighs heavy on my heart.  And when I allow myself to fear, I wonder if my family will be safe. Secretly, we all do.

Over morning coffee, I shared with my husband and son my need to DO something to help this crisis. I told them I was seriously considering making face masks. That got a sideways laugh from both. My son suggested I put some cooking lessons online. That got a laugh from me. Then he said, "Mom, you should  write."

Write about what? 

My editor told me years ago to write what I know and then let others decide what they will do with it. I thought I had written everything I know ten years ago. Working through death, grief, sorrow, finding hope, remaining faithful are all subjects familiar to me. And now as our world faces medical, economical, and financial challenges there seems, once again, to be a need for doing something with our pain. The beauty of this is we can all respond in different ways. Doctors, cooks, babysitters, drivers, financial advisors, government officials, ministers, teachers, volunteers, you, me. Paul Young, in his book The Shack, calls it "the many colors and facets of God's grace". There seems to be provision for every need if each one of us will just  DO something. Big or small. My sister writes notes. My friend delivers bread to homeless youth. My husband reassures clients from daylight to dark. Each one doing what they can to make a difference.

What will you do today?