Every time I open social media, I see a stream of posts about COVID 19 or corona. Some induce anxiety, as statistics reveal the likelihood of it getting much worse before it gets better. Some attempt to find laughter in the humorous aspects of being stuck at home. Some offer hope or a suggestion for bringing positive energy, productivity, and healthy living to the situation. My husband John and I are absorbed like most people in tracking statistics, trying to gather accurate information, and finding connection and entertainment in these slow days.
As much as this is a shared experience for humanity, I'm confident that each person faces their own unique set of circumstances that lead to specific fears, hopes, disappointments, and victories. For sure, this has been true in our lives as I enter into the final few months of pregnancy and eagerly await our baby girl's arrival in June. My fears related to the corona virus have collided with fears about becoming a new mom, and these fears have been exacerbated due to other changes in John and I's work lives. It appears that change and uncertainty has come more like the impending crash of a tsunami then the gentle changing of the tides. As I scan through posts from friends and strangers, I am confident that I am not alone in this feeling and that others are experiencing a giant wave of impending change thats full impact is yet unknown.
A week ago I sat on my couch and cried, wondering how it would all work out, mostly grappling with the unknowns of my own potential emotions post-delivery and the reality that I am embarking on this chapter of life far from my family. I picture the worse-case scenario. I am alone at home, crying because of all the hormone-induced emotions, and I have no idea what to do with my baby. I told my husband, "You need to be there for me. I don't have anyone else." A day later, we got the news that schools were closing, and we would begin online learning. As the days pass and the situation does not seem to be improving, I wonder, "Will I transition from days at home working in isolation to summer days staying at home with my newborn baby? Will I survive that emotionally?" I'm trying my best to prepare to be a mom, reading excellent books recommended to me by friends, thinking through work and child care for next year, and slowly gathering the stuff we need through the generosity of friends and family who have brought things from the states or shared from what they already have. However, several events have taken place over the last couple of weeks that have thrown a wrench in my carefully laid plans to be prepared.
What do I do in these moments of being so absolutely unsure of exactly what the future holds? What do any of us do? For me, what brought immense hope was a small meeting of my church family a week ago. Cairo was in the midst of a hurricane-like rain storm, and all schools and most work places had shut down for two days (a foreshadowing of more shut downs due to the corona virus over the last week). This storm, although fairly average by Houston/Louisiana standards, left flooding, power outages, and water cuts in its wake. Since our home is near to church, we ventured out on Friday morning to meet with our church family (not aware that it would be our last meeting together for who knows how long). There was no power in the church, and only a few families showed up that morning. We lingered just outside the church doors in the cloudy daylight, as a few people started lighting candles in the church. We shared thoughts and questions about potential school closings due to the corona virus. We laughed about various adventures in the flooded streets of Cairo. We entered the church and prayed over poor communities in Cairo absolutely devastated by these two days of rain. We sang "It Is Well," and several leaders in our community stood up to share honestly about the fear we all have and the even greater fear that so many outside of our community may be feeling. I was reminded of the power of meeting together, even in simple settings with one person leading worship and windows slamming shut from the wind. As we prayed and remembered the incredible hope we have in Jesus, my spirits were restored. The anxiety I had been feeling slipped away, not forever gone but stilled by this peaceful, simple gathering. As we recalled the sacrifice of Jesus and His conquering over death, I realized anew that I truly have nothing to fear. My worst-case scenario still ends in this hope of life with Jesus.
On this day and in the days following, my eyes were opened more, not to my own unclear future and reasons to worry, but to the people around the world who are lacking hope. I feel overwhelmed to pray, yes for our safety. I want my baby girl to be okay, to arrive safely and surrounded by those who love her. But I also feel overwhelmed to pray for everyone who feels trapped in the understandable anxiety of these times. I think about Egypt, and I worry about all the people below the poverty line who have very limited access to medical care and might not even know they have COVID19. I'm praying for a miracle for Egypt and for the rest of Africa. However, even more than a miracle, I'm praying for people to experience God through this. God does not cause suffering, but he works powerfully through it. Some friends challenged me to ask, "What is God doing through this? Where is God in this?"
In my devotional times, I have been reading the book of Daniel. As I read about how God allowed his people to be taken into captivity, I'm reminded that God was there too in that time of uncertainty, loss, fear and humiliation. He made himself known to kings who had no regard for him, who demanded that their kingdom worship them like gods. Even these proud, powerful kings came to a point where they acknowledged the power of God and several humbled themselves before him. Reflecting on these stories of God at work through the hardest of circumstances, I'm challenged to ask: God, what are you doing in these days? Where are you revealing yourself? Will we see you? Will we seek you every day as Daniel did, bending our knees in prayer? Will we walk into the fiery furnace of these times unafraid because we know who our God is and that he is able to rescue?
