Tag: covid19
Comfort, Comfort My People
US: We’re all a little afraid, God? Ok, some of us a lot afraid. Most of us are somewhere between freaking out and totally Zen, depending on the day, the hour, the moment. What are we supposed to do?
GOD: COMFORT, COMFORT MY PEOPLE.
US: You mean we’re not supposed to tell them not to be afraid?
GOD: COMFORT, COMFORT MY PEOPLE.
Don’t tell them not to be afraid. HELP them not to be afraid!
US: How should we do that?
GOD: You already are in so many ways, and I’m so grateful for that.
When you answer the phone and cry with a friend who has lost her job, YOU ARE.
When you drop a roll of paper towels off in mailbox for someone who is running short, YOU ARE.
When you hold your kids close who are now having nightmares, YOU ARE.
When you order a pizza from a restaurant who wonders if they are going to make it (and add a few dinners to go), YOU ARE.
When you pray for your coworker whose mom is in the hospital (and tell them that over and over and over), YOU ARE.
When you put stuffed bears in your windows for kids to see as they walk by, YOU ARE.
When you drop a note for your elderly neighbor, asking if they need anything, YOU ARE.
When you keep your distance if you’re out and about, yet greet people kindly, YOU ARE.
When you have a video conference call with your family to celebrate your son’s birthday, YOU ARE.
When you listen to your spouse’s rant about all the scary things that are going on inside her, YOU ARE.
When you collectively gather on the internet with your faith community and remind each other of God’s tender care, YOU ARE.
When you hold another’s heart carefully and tenderly, allowing for all the feels, YOU ARE.
US: Really? That will HELP them? That will HELP me? Not to be so afraid?
GOD: Yes. Yes. COMFORT, COMFORT MY PEOPLE.
A Smile Crept
A smile crept to my lips as I woke this morning.
It wasn’t because the sun was shining (finally) through my window, although that didn’t hurt.
It wasn’t because I had finally gotten a grocery store pick-up time around 12:30 am, although I am beyond grateful for that.
It wasn’t because Lysol wipes magically appeared in the back of a closet, although I almost kissed the package right there in my bathroom.
It wasn’t because my daffodil bulbs are just about to burst open, although spring and the beauty it brings are my all-time favorite.
A smile crept to my lips as I woke this morning.
A sound I hadn’t heard in months pierced my ever-longing ears.
THE SOUND OF A LEAF-BLOWER IN OUR NEIGHBOR’S YARD.
This would have annoyed me on April 1 of 2019.
After all, it was only 7:30 in the morning.
I might have even made some snarky comment about them being a “little inconsiderate.”
I might have spent the next half hour stewing in my cereal.
But today, a smile crept to my lips.
It was the sound of normal, ordinary.
A gift straight from God’s heart to mine.
“Normal day, let me be aware of the treasure that you are.” (Mary Jean Irion)