The ‘Times of the Great Unknown’ as I have nicknamed this modern crisis has thrown a wrench into the cogs of most of our lives.  While others have found the time to slow down, process, and get to projects long over due, I find myself continuing my daily commute.  While I drive the same path, everything surrounding my daily shuttle and the office workflow have changed.  Everyday is a new type of different.  Hard decisions are having to be made and some days are emotionally charged.  My new norm has become the ‘unknown’.

My two high schoolers are stuck in the house each day, trying to navigate this new form of learning from home.  That being said, my house has gotten out of control right after I had finally gotten it in order.  Of course, getting it in order required that I scale back on my writing time and enlist (draft) the entire household into helping me, but in only 3ish weeks of quarantined living everything has gone to pot.  All weekly routines have been thrown out the window because they don’t work in our new norm.  I come home to more questions than I have answers for.

Honestly though, it’s not the loss of routine nor the lack of control that is bothering me.  It’s not the virus or the possibility of death, even though both are things to be avoided.  What has constantly ebbed and flowed into my thoughts and tried to buffer against my peace has been the thought of missing out on my son’s graduation from bootcamp.  Not knowing when I might see him again is part of the military journey, but missing out on the pomp and circumstance of his graduation and the cancellation of his 10 day leave was not something I had prepared for.  When he enlisted, I knew that the possibility of the unknown could always rear its ugly head, so it’s not the unknown that is troubling me.

Why am I discouraged?  Why is my heart so sad?  (Psalms 42:5a NLT)  I knew that I was struggling with something, but I hadn’t been able to identify what it was.  One of the reasons is that I don’t process with others around me.  I have to get alone which is nearly impossible when you are under lock down at work and supposed to be quarantined at home.  Not only do I have to find alone time in order to get to the bottom of things, but I need to experience nature all around me.  I have to taste and see, smell, absorb, and be a part of.  And that was it.  That is what I was struggling with.  I couldn’t be a part of my son’s happiest day.  I was dealing with feelings of being left out, left behind.

And then I thought of how many times, we do this to God.  How many times do we say, “Thanks, God, but I got this now?”  How many times do we look for a solution before asking for His input?  How often do we rush forward and then ask Him to bless the works of our hands and our ideas instead of dedicating and turning them over to Him from the very beginning?  We were made for Him, to be in fellowship with Him at all times.

If I felt bereft over missing one major event in the life of my son, how must God feel when we exclude Him from ours?  This revelation was a great reminder for me to not allow circumstances, success, failure, or anything else to come between me and my relationship with God because He is my hope.  His Word is my foundation.  

Who shall separate us from the love of Christ?  Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword?  No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. (Romans 8:35, 37 NIV)

When you hear the words ‘deep waters’ what word picture comes to mind?  Drowning, an overwhelming life, COVID-19, the deep end of the swimming pool?  Normally these words would remind me of overwhelming circumstances, but today I am drawn to them with a different narrative, a new word picture.  

Could it be that during these uncertain times God is calling us into the deep?  A deep study of His Word, His character?  Is he asking you to allow all of the noises of the World to fade away as we ride on the ocean waves of His love?  

Is He separating us from things that hold us back, from countless activities and tasks that we have chosen to replace Him with?  

If you’re like me and you are hearing that gentle call to go even deeper; that still small voice that is asking you to let go of the shore and explore the deepest depths of God’s love: don’t be afraid to answer His call.  His love is sweeter than honey.  Why don’t you take the time to answer?  Why not taste and see that the Lord is good?  Why not venture into His loving arms?  He is waiting for you.  

With all of the hype and fear surrounding the Coronavirus, I see a call to serve others, an opportunity to share the love of Christ in a big way.  I am reminded of the verse, Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ. (Galatians 6:2 NIV)

So what does it look like to carry one another’s burdens?  There are so many different ways we can do this.  When someone can no longer believe or hope, we can believe and hope for them.  We can hold them up in prayer.  The ways we can serve each other are endless.  

A few months back my daughter chose to carry another’s burdens in a big way.  Through the walls of our living room, we heard an accident outside.  The piercing howl of the injured animal drew my darling girl.  Without thought of what she might see, she rushed out the door and toward the anguished cries of a young dog.  When the driver of the car fled the scene, my daughter choose to do something.  Moved with compassion, she climbed into the ditch and cradled the dog’s head until the very end.  My baby girl couldn’t imagine leaving the animal alone unloved, so she stayed carrying the dogs burden the only way she could by offering her comforting presence.  

Over the years, I’ve had people step in and carry my burdens.  When our middle daughter died, parents that had also lost a child long before it was time, came and stood next to us at her funeral.  They didn’t offer us words of comfort, instead they supported us with their presence.  I will never forget how that made me feel nor how it gave me the courage to face the rest of that day.         

Recently a teen I know with a bad home life has been on my heart.  I have been trying to find a safe place for them to go, but have come up empty handed.  While pouring my heart out in prayer, the opening verse came to mind and I realized that God was asking me to step in and carry this burden myself.  So I took the idea to my family expecting to be buffeted.  Instead, I found that the other’s in my household were experiencing the same promptings I was.

A few days later, I was notified of a group that was looking for parents to adopt a child for graduation.  There are young adults who won’t have anyone there for them on their big day.  So I approached my husband who exclaimed, “Why not!  I guess God is asking us to be a parent to the unwanted, unloved, and parentless.

How can you carry someone else’s burden today?  Is there someone in your circle who needs you to stand in the gap for them?  When God places someone in our paths or on our hearts, let us not sit back and wait for someone else to step in.  Instead, let us be the arms and feet of Jesus that we might fulfill the law of Christ.  

Last week I was approached by someone who wanted advice on how to stop being a victim.  They asked me when I had stopped giving off the vibes that so many sexual assault victims give off.  You know, the ones that get us in trouble, the invisible ones that predators just seem to sense.  They wanted to know what I had done and how I had changed so that they too could overcome the devastating effects that abuse brings.

As I prepared my answer, I was aware that she wanted steps, things she could do to fix the problem.  But the only solution I could offer didn’t come from a checklist.  It didn’t happen because I had followed a program or read a book.   The outcome wasn’t a result of something I had done or didn’t do.  The difference in me was a result of healing and that healing came through the person of Jesus Christ.  

I knew that the message of the cross might be seen as a foolish explanation, but I also knew that it was more than a quick fix.  It had the power to transform lives, and it’s truth had transformed mine.  The message of the cross is foolish to those that are headed for destruction!  But we who are being saved know it is the very power of God.  I Corinthians 1:18 (NLT)

So I offered her the only truth I had to give.  I would like to share it with you as well.

Reader,  

I’ll be honest with you.  I didn’t stop giving off vibes until I got my healing.  My healing didn’t come until I admitted to myself that I would never be enough in and of myself, but that Christ had made me enough through the blood of His sacrifice.  I accepted that God doesn’t love me because of something I can do or something I can bring, but He loves me with an unexplainable love.  I can accept that love and grace as the free gift it is or I can try to earn it. If I try to earn it, I am stuck in a vicious cycle of wrongs and rights, successes and failures, and constant comparison.  If I accept it, then I have to trust Him with all that I am, completely surrendering to Him and resting in His love.  It means that my self worth isn’t tied to who I am, but to who He is and what He says about me.  There is such a freedom in knowing that no matter what someone else thinks or knows about me, they do not have the power to change how God feels about me.  When I am faced with feelings of inadequacy, loneliness, or failure I remember who I am and who I belong to.  It makes all the difference.  Because I know that I am one of God’s adopted princesses, the apple of His eye, I can face hard things with courage.  My circumstances and the thoughts and opinions of others no longer have dominion over me because I am a Child of God.  That is my identity.  Now I know that my size, my weight, my figure, none of that matters.  At the end of the day it doesn’t matter whether I attracted or repulsed someone.  God is all the approval I need.  Does any of this make sense?  Knowing who I am gave me the courage to set healthy boundaries.  (Gave me the courage to rest in someone else’s care.)