Umpteenthmillionthkdajdfjadjjkhadjfkish day of the “stay at home” order. This COVID-19 has wreaked havoc on emotions, work, finances, people and businesses. I fear we will never be the same.
And yet.
The physical earth has taken a big collective inhale… pollution is down. Rivers are clear. Fish are coming back. Skies that were once full of pollution see the sun piercing through.
The people.
Initially we took in a big ginormous scarycited breath. We “have” to stay at home for a week?! Sure! I’m ALL in. It felt almost like Christmas vacation. But now.
It’s not fun anymore.
The economy is tanking all over the world. People are losing their minds. Abuse has risen. Anxiety is off the charts. Suicides have risen. Opinions are a dime a dozen and each one is clamoring for attention like the empty toilet paper shelves begging to be filled. Fear is everywhere, and it is freely passed around. People going to great lengths to maintain the mandatory 6 foot distance. Suddenly giving a hug to someone feels… wrong. I just want to slap my face and do it again.
Absolute unrighteousness.
We were creatively designed for touch.
Created to thrive with touch.
“I” want to be touched!
The thought of a world where smiles are forever hidden behind a mask and a perpetual 6 foot wide berth is normal makes me sink to the ground.
My heart groans and cannot bear the thought.
Why are Christians so afraid? Why are we so afraid of dying?
WHERE IS THE PEACE?!?!
How can we say out of one side of our mouth, “I am not a citizen of this earth” and yet clutch to the earth so tightly our knuckles turn white and we scream, “I don’t want to die!”
But I don’t want to die either. Not yet.
I crave the peace that we are supposed to be carrying in our hearts. Instead all I see are the white knuckled fingers that are wildly pointing at everyone and everything.
If Suspicion and Opinions could be sold as stock, the DOW would be higher than it has ever been.
Where does trust in The One who sees and knows ALL come into the picture?
So many questions that beg to be answered but probably will never be.
Is this a weapon of mass destruction?
Is there a conspiracy so deep and entangled on such a high level that our brains would combust if we found it out?
Is this virus just an “innocent” mutation from an animal to a human?
COVID-19.
Cancelled.
Quarantine.
Stay at home.
Shelter in place.
Social Distancing.
Lock-Down.
ENOUGH!!!
I never ever want to hear those words again.
The scream rips out of me and I feel it ringing as it echoes into nothingness.
I’m tired.
Spent.
The Enneagram 9 in me wants to bury my face in a pillow and cover my body under a blanket until this is all over.
Surely this is all just a bad dream.
But it’s not.
Each day drips and bleeds and melts into the next to the point where it all blends together like a watercolor painting and last week feels like yesterday and a month ago. It all feels the same – because it is.
Dates have become meaningless except the one faint light that taunts me at the end of the very dark tunnel.
The light of the date where it will all be over and life can resume.
I reach for it – only to have it laughingly snatched away from me, again and again.
The Monet has turned into a Salvador Dalí painting.
Everything has become weird.
I’m resigned now.
It seems, they’ve won. (whoever “they” is)
I sit huddled in the corner of a dungeon, my arms hugging my knees and my face buried.
I’ve given up.
Resignation’s fingers have embedded their long talons in my mind.
I’m cold and numb.
“Someday”, I tell myself as I rock back and forth. “Someday, this will all be behind us.”

**Hey all. This raw, angsty and slightly dark journal entry came pouring out of my fingers one night last week when everything felt dark and big and never-ending. I was o.ver. anything related to COVID-19 and I just wrote whatever came to my mind and I didn’t analyze it or second guess it. Because journal entries are private, right? 😉

We all have dark days, and I have a feeling that I’m not the only one who has experienced a myriad of emotions these last several weeks. Writing is cathartic to me. Helps me process and “get out” what I’m feeling, so it doesn’t stay stuck inside. I call it “brain dumping”.

I don’t know the end of the story yet. None of us do. But I do know who has me, and who is holding me in the palm of His hand. And that’s right where I’m going to stay.