How Will We Be Changed?

I know this may sound strange, but I can feel the virus inside me.  When I take a deep breath, it's there, lurking in my lungs.  Fortunately it is not winning, not with me, not so far.  But because I feel it, I keep resting.  I fear that if I push too hard, I will give it room to grow and spread.  And so I continue to rest.  I believe that I will know when it is gone, and I hope that I will have been changed for the better.

Halfway through the first week of this virus, Jan shared this video with me.  A colleague of hers from Romania got it from a colleague in Jerusalem.  I keep watching it because I find it to be so powerful.  The idea that the virus has shaken us, has stopped us, has undermined everything, and is giving us the opportunity to reimagine how we want the world to be challenges me with each viewing.  

If we could create the world anew, what we we change?  

How would we like to live differently?  

How would we want to use our time, our money, our gifts?  

One of the things I'm valuing in this time is reconnecting with so many people via Zoom and Facebook live and other virtual channels.  If we weren't stuck in our houses, we wouldn't be making these connections.  We'd think about it, sure, but there wouldn't be time.  How can we do that differently going forward?

In the video the narrator says, "This virus is part of us.  It's between us, in us."  This virus is now in me; I can feel it.  It's in us, between us, connecting us in ways we didn't expect.  We are not alone.  We belong to something greater than us.  We belong to each other.  My dear friends, maybe we're getting a do-over.  With the earth, our fragile home.  With each other.  Someone asked me if I thought God was testing us.  Of course it's possible, as I do not know the mind of God.  But I don't believe that's what's happening.  I believe God is with us in this, as God is always with God's people.  I believe God redeems everything.  I don't know how, but I already see so many signs of it.

Shelter in grace is a phrase I picked up from a reflection that came in my email.  Shelter in grace, my friends.  Listen to your bodies.  Listen to the earth.  Listen to each other.  Listen deep inside.  We may just have history's biggest do-over.  We may have the chance to offer grace to this new world that's being birthed.  When the virus leaves us, what will we choose to do?

Coronavirus: Ten Days In

Every night I tell myself I'm going to do better the next day.  Every morning, I get up, make my bed, take a shower, dress in actual clothes, not pajamas (I'm afraid I'll never get out of them), and then I'm wiped out.  To the couch I go, with a bowl of Kashi cereal and a cup of hot tea.  Another day of rest.

On March 12, I started to feel off.  Chills, achey back, and that feverish fatigue-y feeling that makes me not feel quite present in a room.  After my last meeting, I went home.  Temperature was 99.5.  High for me, but not as high as they'd been suggesting would indicate having the coronavirus.  The next day I felt well enough to do an outdoor burial, staying far from the handful of participants, after which I went immediately back home.

I've been in my house ever since.  I've been tracking my symptoms.  Temperature has remained largely at 98.8 or lower with a couple of bumps to 99.2.  Back ache remained for a few days.  All day one day I had a headache.  Diarrhea has come and gone.  A cough developed after the first few days.  It's been productive and not nearly as bad as some coughs I've had.  The fatigue, though.  Climbing stairs leaves me short of breath.  Participating in Zoom meetings and phone calls insures I'll need a nap.  I've had little to no appetite and have had to force myself to eat to keep up strength.  Every night I tell myself I'm going to get things done the next day - start cleaning the house, working on my taxes, answering emails, checking on people who are shut in or sicker than I am.  And I do a few things, but there is no energy.  On Tuesday night we had a Mission and Outreach meeting via Zoom.  So good to see everyone's face.  Every day we do a SpiritWorks noon meeting by Zoom and offer support to our volunteers.  At the end of each day, I am exhausted.  Fortunately I've been able to sleep.

On Wednesday I started to experience some shortness of breath and tightness in my chest.  That was probably the scariest moment.  I laid down on the couch, watched the Harry Potter movie I was on, (my internet isn't working properly either, so I'm watching DVDs) and went to sleep.  Fortunately by Thursday, the shortness of breath had disappeared, and that afternoon I had my first beginnings of energy since this had started.  The Indigo Girls played a Facebook live concert that lifted my spirits.

On Friday I learned that some people I've been exposed to are positive for COVID-19.  I called the health department.  They recommended testing, but said if I didn't feel up to it, I should stay home.  Every time I've looked at the instructions for testing, I haven't met the criteria.  And the thought of the effort it would take to leave my house sends me back to napping.  As I've heard about more cases in Williamsburg, I thought staying home was the best plan.  Since the first day I have assumed I have it and have quarantined myself.  People much sicker than I am need tests and the attention of our hard working health care workers.  Confirming I have it would not change my course of treatment or the fact that I will stay quarantined past the last vestige of a symptom.

Though I had started to feel much better, the great fatigue returned Saturday afternoon and lingered through Sunday.  More couch time, less talking on the phone.  I have finished all Harry Potter movies and am headed into Downton Abbey.  If you get this thing, don't be surprised that it packs more than one punch.  Listen to your body.  Rest.  Rest.  Rest.

On Friday night kind parishioners left a vase of daffodils on my front porch.  It made my weekend - spring came inside the house.  On Saturday I ordered dinner from Sal's.  They had it on my porch in less than half an hour.  Countless people have volunteered to bring groceries when I need them. I cannot express my gratitude for the goodness and kindness I have seen in people.  Ten days in, I am counting my many, many blessings.  And also praying for those who have it so much worse than I do.