Tuesday, April 7, 2020 Holy Week

It’s one of those days when my thoughts refuse to focus; as if the creative side of my brain has gone on holiday and I’m left with the logical side jeering my efforts to write today’s post. You might call it “writers block.” I’m inclined to think it’s more the challenge of what is worthy of thought in this interrupted season of our lives. It’s the choosing that has me momentarily stumped. I could speak to the solemnity of the prayer line this morning evidenced by the requests that almost doubled the norm; or about the continuing rise in the numbers of those stricken by the coronavirus; or the ongoing need of medical supplies and safety protections for the nurses and doctors on the front lines of treatment and care; or the recent revelation by funeral home directors that they are beyond capacity in meeting the ordinary needs of families who’ve lost loved ones to the pandemic; or the ban against visitors to hospitals and nursing homes and not being able to see if their loved ones needs are being competently addressed; or the disappointment of our nation’s high school and college graduates because at all levels schools have shut their doors ending the year and cancelling the normal celebratory events that mark these milestones; or the quiet anxiety that creeps like fog across a land of social distancing, face masks and gloves in public places a norm part of sartorial choices, shelter-in-place orders, and yes, the never ending hunt for toilet paper and Lysol spray.

I suppose if I put my mind to it after praying for inspiration, I could craft a post about any of those today. But as I’ve been writing, I realize that maybe what the Lord is calling  me to do today is acknowledge those concerns of the times, but not dwell upon them. Perhaps He’s shifting my focus from the problems we face to His blessings in the midst of these problems. Perhaps on this Tuesday of Holy Week, He simply wants to focus my thoughts on a time over 2000 years ago when His Son  was in the town of Jerusalem during the Jewish Passover celebration. During that week,  that only Son would go from being celebrated as a king to being crucified on a cross. As difficult and heart wrenching that must have been for the Father, He allowed it anyway because of what that tragedy would birth on Resurrection Sunday. Perhaps if I focus on the interruption at Calvary, I will find in these Holy Week moments of reflective quiet and stillness that our heavenly Father offered His love to us through Jesus’ death and confirmed it with His resurrection. If He loves us to that extent, He is with us now in love, biding His time as the virus runs its course. He could have stopped the crucifixion to spare Jesus the anguish; He could stop the virus to spare us anguish now. But He didn’t and He hasn’t. We know  why He didn’t 2000 years ago. We have to trust His reasons for why He hasn’t now. Just as a greater purpose was served  in the tragedy at Calvary, so will God’s greater purposes be served by what we are experiencing in 2020. It may even be a while before we can look at the current battle against an unseen virus and understand that God was there with us and His will for us was perfect.

Love. Joy. Peace.