On Monday, after homeschooling for the very first time ever, I was interviewed by a reporter from the Christian Science Monitor about how clergy are responding to the current state of life and faith. The reporter asked really compelling questions which left me thinking deeply, not about social distancing and isolation, but about opportunity and hope.
Last year during Lent our theme was reconnecting with our unhurried God. Each week we practiced breathing and noticing God with us. Even though we took a break for a little while, after the six-week journey, our routines and the demands on our lives returned with a vengeance. Some of us are even more committed to work, to committees, to councils and to organizations than we were before we reconnected with God.
Right in the busyness of our lives, as we moved into Lent this year, we began a journey toward healing and wholeness; yet, we find ourselves separated, distanced and isolated by a pandemic.
In the middle of all of this, I have seen God in friends making phone calls checking on one another. I’ve seen God in a five year old coloring cards that she plans to put in the mailboxes of all her neighbors. I’ve found God in the email conversations that imagine a Give and Take Food Box outside our church doors; a box in which people can give their extra and people can take what they need, no questions asked. I’ve discovered God in the willingness to learn from parents, the silly writing prompts, the communities that will not let us go and continue to connect through virtual meetings and text check-ins. I’ve heard God in the laughter of children. I’ve felt God in the recess break that included thrilling uphill and down bike rides. I’ve seen God in the greeting of strangers from six feet away, looking each other in the eye and saying hello.
Where have you seen, discovered, heard and felt God this week? Where have you found opportunity and hope? Where were you more aware than ever that you are not alone?
When my six year old has a Zoom meeting for Daisies (Girl Scouts) and my eight year old has daily Zoom play dates with his BFF, I say we are navigating a whole new world. The gift and joy of all of this is re-imagining our time, relearning to simply live, remembering that breathing and space is essential to being fully alive, and rediscovering that we are never alone — God is with us.
Zoom you on Sunday,
Hope