Author: Kathy Wetsell Page 1 of 2

Kathy Wetsell enjoys spending time with family, friends and pets. She has raised two daughters and likes to write about her observations and encourage other women at the same time. She believes there isn't much that can't be cured with a prayer, a nap, laughter, a hot cup of Earl Gray tea, a good friend/book/music/podcast and a dog by your side.

Embracing Firefly Season

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As I write, this summer is in its early stages and parents everywhere are making plans for their children who are taking a much needed break from school. It has been a number of years since my daughters were young enough for me to have a need to focus on their summer plans, however I remember how stress-inducing it could be. Whether you are securing day camps, play-dates, or simple activities to keep them from being bored out of their minds, there will be a lot of mental energy expended.

Just this past week, I walked outside in the early twilight with my little dog, and I saw the twinkle of the first firefly of summer. It brought back such a sweet memory of one early summer evening, when both of my girls were still young enough to be in elementary school. We were thrilled to have a little more time to relax outside in the evening, and we made our first discovery of firefly season. I had known of fireflies and their magical luminescence as a child, but this particular evening was the first that I recall actually noticing fireflies as an adult. We had been playing outside and started to see their amber glow and the fun began as we chased after them to try to catch them. As with much in life, the chase was far more enjoyable than the actual catch. Those beautiful, tiny creatures begin fluttering by in the early evening hours of late May and they intermittently glow as if a blinking neon sign sent to remind us to take notice of the longer days. They seem to be holdovers from a simpler time when children spent their days outdoors until the streetlights came on, or the fireflies twinkled.

The transition into summer can be a bit bumpy as families figure out daily chores, bedtimes, sports activities, swim lessons, and in this era, how much is too much screen time. Looking back I know I spent too much time worrying over keeping my children from being bored in the summer. I had forgotten that often, boredom is the space where so many genius ideas and inventions are hatched.

Now, I have one daughter who is out of college, and her younger sister is beginning her final summer before “real world” post-college life, and all that comes with it. I look back at those summers of the past and realize how fleeting they are. Most of us will only be blessed with 18 summers with our children before they are expected to move on to whatever life has to offer. Time slips by much more quickly than we can ever imagine when they are toddlers.

So as you schedule all of the plans for your children this summer, make sure you plan for frozen popsicles, yard sprinklers, backyard campouts, grilled hot dogs, roasted marshmallows, and look for those mystical fireflies. My years of living have shown me that things that seem so simple, come with joyful and lingering memories of time spent savoring the specialness of summer. Thankfully, every summer has a Firefly season for us to seek the magic and marvel at the beauty around us. It beckons us to slow down and appreciate the little moments, which upon reflection, are often the most meaningful.

The Sweetest Time Capsule

Lately, I find myself in my “Swedish Death Cleaning” era. If you are unsure as to what this means, you can google it, but essentially I am cleaning out all the nooks and crannies of my home so that someday (hopefully many years from now) when I am no longer present, my dear daughters will have less to deal with.  I have lived in my home for 18 years and when we moved into it, I had a two-year-old and a six-year-old, so time for organizing was quite limited. I’ve slowly begun the process of analyzing what I own and whether or not I still value it in my life enough to take up real estate in my home and/or mind. 

The current project is clearing out the paper filing cabinet and taking the “sensitive” materials to be shredded. I own a shredder, but this is going to be next-level shredding as I clear out 30 years of old documents. By the way, did you know that UPS will take care of your shredding?  Well, they will for $2/pound….that’s SO worth it to me! 

Yesterday, I was cleaning out old income tax files from 1999/2000 and came across the paper calendar that I used in the year 2000.  I am not sure why I had stored it in the income tax folder, but I found it and it took me on a trip down memory lane. My oldest was 1 year old (she recently got married and celebrated her 25th birthday).  I chose to stay at home full-time when she was born, so I did not have many schedules to manage in 2000. I remember feeling a bit lost after having worked full-time for years, and the calendar helped me feel like I still had reasons to care about how I filled my time. I wrote my husband’s work schedule, important birthdays, pediatric appointments, and paydays, which were highly anticipated events of the month! I even made notes about extra expenses we would have to budget for at the beginning of the month. Some of the sweetest memories I came across were my daughter’s first steps on February 16, 2000, the first snowfall of 2000 in Memphis, TN on January 28, 2000, and the very first women’s ministry bible study I ever participated in at Bellevue Baptist Church in September of 2000. That date is special to me because it served as the beginning of my journey into reading and studying the Bible, which started transforming me and continues to do so to this very moment. 

Finding this calendar made me nostalgic and a bit emotional. I had forgotten how much I relied on moms’ groups/play dates to keep me sane as I learned how to be a mother to a precious, strong-willed little girl. It’s a good reminder that the things we worry about in the current moment will likely be forgotten in a few years. It also reminds me that God has been so faithful over all of these years, and what a gift it is to have had all of this time to watch my daughters grow into amazing adults with their own calendars to maintain. 

I know paper calendars are being replaced by digital, and in many ways, I am in full support of this. I love digital copies of just about everything! However, I will say that there is something so sweet about coming across this little time capsule with the ink smudges and crossed-out words, and even crayon marks created by my toddler’s little hands.  I will surely have great success weeding out many things in my home, but this little calendar may not make the cut of the Swedish Death Cleaning guidelines for elimination; For now, it brings me joy. 

Dear Moms of High School Seniors, It’s Going to be OK…

I see your posts on social media, and I sense your excitement, mixed with anxiety and a bit of sadness (if we are being completely honest). I notice your photos of all the “lasts” and I celebrate your child’s accomplishments with you. I see you and I know you because I have been you, twice now.  I feel the almost palpable sinking feeling that hits in the pit of your stomach when you think about them moving on to the next stage.  How is it possible that they have grown from such a tiny, helpless little child into this physically mature person,  who the world says is technically (and suddenly) an adult? We have been there for the kindergarten drop-offs, the school musicals, the football games, the choir concerts, the debate team championships, and every bit of school-associated friend drama. We have checked their grades from our home computers, signed permission slips, turned in fines for lost library books, checked them out for orthodontist appointments, muddled through class schedule planning,  and in the last few years, we have been their teachers when they could not have in-person instruction. We packed lunches, drove carpools, waited by the bus stop, provided team snacks, and did anything that was possible to support our local teachers and PTA’s. In many ways, our child and their role in school has been the biggest influencer of our lives for the past 13 years, and whether we work outside the home or not, our lives and activities revolve around the school calendar and the many duties that align with it.  My youngest graduated in 2021 and I consider myself to be one of the more involved parents in our school district. I was fortunate to be a stay-at-home mom, and as such, had the flexibility to give of my time in this way. I would not change a thing about this, but I wondered what life would be like for me after my nest was empty and there were no more PTA meetings to help lead, or back-to-school events to attend.  At one point in my life, I was fearful of not having a purpose in this new phase of life, and it was anxiety provoking for me. For this reason, I want to write to you moms who may be feeling the same fears.

I want to reassure you that things are going to be OK; heck they might even be fabulous! Some Of you won’t believe me, but most of the things that I thought I would miss so much about my daughter’s school years, I don’t miss at all.  Don’t get me wrong…I enjoyed it in the seasons we were living within, but I must admit that it is nice to have evenings free to spend with my husband doing anything we feel like. The time that I used to spend giving to the school is now time that I can use to take up new hobbies or volunteer in other local community agencies. I don’t check my daughters’ grades or even know a single one of her professors.  She knows her professors though, and when one is particularly inspiring to her, she will share it with me. While it is sometimes odd to not know what she is doing on a daily basis,  I have become comfortable with the fact that she has her own life and friendships that I will never be involved in. Any sadness I feel about that is easily lifted when I realize that we raised her to be an independent adult who has her own life.  It’s freeing, to be completely honest.  Of course, we are there to offer advice about career planning and goals but she has an advisor who knows all of the ins and outs of her course requirements and we are not responsible for these choices anymore. That is really nice!

I remember feeling like my daughters’ senior years were a series of milestones to check off: Senior photos, college applications, scholarship essays, references, awards ceremonies (so glad to escape the pressure from those annual award ceremonies), prom, post-graduation parties. It’s a whole lot to plan and with social media, the need to get it all “picture perfect” can be overwhelming. I think it is truly difficult for our children to truly enjoy this time because there are so many milestones/deadlines in one year and there is so much cultural pressure to know where you are going and what you will be doing after high school. The summer after graduation was a bit stressful for my daughters as they planned their dorm decorating and felt fearful about the next steps. Moving away from home is not easy, but it has been so good for my daughters. I think we are all breathing a sigh of relief that my youngest is about to complete her freshman year in college. She loved it but it was scary at first. Now she is so comfortable there and when she goes back she has friends and knows that it is her second home.

So for these reasons, and many others, I want to tell you to tell you to enjoy the rest of their senior year. Get the photos with all of the friend groups, plan and attend parties, help your child plan their next steps as much as they want you to, and know that this truly isn’t the end. While it is the ending of some things, in many ways it is the beginning of a new and wonderful phase in which you, as a mom, can take a bit of a breath as you watch your adult child from the sidelines (and you don’t have to bring the orange slices). Don’t be afraid to close this chapter; The next act is theirs to orchestrate, and from my experience, you have a second act of your own to plan.

The Walking Wounded: Some Scars are Unseen

I sat with a bunch of my good friends recently and we talked around a kitchen table in the welcoming home of a friend. We are women who meet weekly as a group to work through bible studies together, and this morning was our first day to meet in the new year. We took turns updating the group about how we are doing, and what we are working on as people.

We check in with each other frequently, so this was not new, but somehow today seemed different. The burdens we were carrying were heavy, and in my opinion they seemed heavier than usual.

We have empty-nesters who are trying to find their new life purposes and are concerned about their adult children making their way in the current world. There is a recent widow who is taking on new challenges on her own. We have moms who are concerned about their children’s anxiety in a world where anxiety is rampant. There are women who are sandwiched between the intense needs of teen children and aging parents. We have those experiencing struggles as roles in life change, and they seek to align their family’s different personality types and goals for the future. We have those who are struggling with unmet expectations in a season which seemed destined for success, and some who are doing the work to heal from past traumas.  All of this “heavy stuff” among 10 women. 

It struck me that if we were all verbalizing so many struggles within our small group, what must it be like for the rest of our community, nation and the world in general? We have all experienced trauma of various types in these several years since we were faced with a global pandemic, wars, and so many other trials. It may not be the type of trauma that leaves a visible scar, but in reality, most traumas never do. 

I have no solution to the chaos that we find ourselves in currently. Well, that is not exactly true. I should say I have no quick solution. There is no quick fix for what ails us; I believe this was God’s design. He clearly did not want us living in a fallen world, but once Adam and Eve gave up Eden by disobeying God’s rules, the fallen world was inevitable. There is no quick fix, but there is an omni-present God who loves us and all we have to do is open our hearts and minds to Him and the relationship He wants to have with us. He doesn’t take away our struggles, but He walks beside us to help carry the burdensome weight.

I am reminded that there are people among us who appear as if they have it all under control, but many of them are struggling. They are our friends, neighbors, co-workers and the people we see out running errands. They are the people we love, and those who we find difficult to love. 

According to the dictionary, the term “walking wounded” refers to people suffering from physical or psychological injuries or ailments who nevertheless carry out their daily lives as normal. As humans surviving these past few years of Covid-19 and its aftermath, I believe we all carry some physical or psychological injuries and are in some ways “walking wounded”. 

We are all walking around with unseen hurts.  We do our best to shove them beneath the surface and hide them under the many masks we wear, but that can only last for so long. The trauma will bubble to the surface and we will be forced to face the “injuries” we carry.  When we do, we may choose to share them with trusted friends or family, but hopefully, we will remember to cry out to God. As Psalm 34:17-18 reads:

The righteous cry out, and the LORD hears them; he delivers them from all their troubles. The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.

Being able to sit and listen to my friends served as a blessed reminder to me to have more patience with others. It is easy to do so with my friends, but not so easy with the strangers who don’t think the same way I do, or who cut me off in traffic, or whatever the “sin of the day” might be. I am going to have to be intentional, but I am going to try to remember that everyone is suffering from some type of trauma from these past few years. Many of us are brokenhearted and crushed in spirit.  If we all try a little harder with each other, we just might begin to heal some of those wounds and our world will see a change for the better. With God, all things are possible. 

The Art of Slowing Down

Slow…the word itself seems to carry negative connotations with it. Perhaps as Americans, we are caught up in all modes of increasing productivity or perhaps we are just becoming too conditioned to immediate gratification, but the fact of the matter is, being slow is not a trait to be lauded in most people’s minds.

Recently I purchased a 1000 piece puzzle for my family to work on over Christmas break. I don’t find many members of my family who gain as much satisfaction from puzzle completion as I do, but nonetheless, we all worked on it a bit as we had more time for relaxation than we do in other seasons of the year.  I cleared off my coffee table and we laid out each piece and over the course of weeks, we slowly scanned the pieces for the perfect fits to combine into a completed work of art.  It is still sitting there as I write this, and I am not in a hurry to complete it or to have my table cleared. In fact, once this one is finished, I plan to purchase another puzzle because this one has been such a lesson in slow, delayed gratification. 

Without fail, each person who has helped with the puzzle completion has mentioned how challenging the puzzle is and has questioned their level of patience for such a hobby. I think these deterrents are the very reasons why I enjoy the puzzle so much. The slow and steady search for details that will make the piece match, the joy of focusing solely on something that is not on a digital screen, the lovely music I play in the background, and the feeling of accomplishment when a segment comes together; it has been good for my productivity-seeking soul. 

This project of slow completion has reminded me that sometimes the answers we seek are not clear until we step away from the circumstances. We tend to get so focused on finding a resolution to a problem as quickly as possible in order to check it off our lists. With puzzles, sometimes you have to step away before you’ve met your goal, and upon returning, you find the piece you needed was right in front of your eyes, but your narrowness of focus was keeping it from surfacing. Puzzles require patience in order to see them through, and often the sequence of completion is not what you would have chosen, but it works nevertheless; life is much the same way. 

When this puzzle is completed, I will enjoy the moment in which I place the final piece and I will take a photo to share with all who helped make it possible. Then I will dismantle it and excitedly prepare for the next challenge. Slow…may it become synonymous with methodical, thorough, and savoring.

Too Much Time On My Hands

As another year winds down, I find myself contemplating plans and goals for 2022. I feel as if I have been in a fog for the past few years with the Covid pandemic looming constantly overhead. I have never felt quite so stalled as I have these past few years; I wonder if this is true for others as well. With so much of our daily lives changing and actually coming to a screeching halt in 2020, I have not allowed myself to create expectations for fear of extreme disappointment as outside forces threaten to eliminate all of the routines and patterns I have come to expect and thrive within.

I have had several goals to accomplish within my mind, such as organizing my home, weeding out clutter, and becoming more consistent with my writing, among other things. The problem is, I have not taken any tangible steps to create habits that will make these goals attainable.

If I am completely honest, I cannot blame all of this on Covid. I have two new circumstances in my life which are contributing to my lack of focus. First, I have been experiencing the brain fog which comes from the hormonal changes of menopause. While I had hoped to escape this, unfortunately, I have not been able to come out unscathed. I did try some hormone replacement therapy which helped for a while, but hormones continue to change, and sometimes we have to follow up and make changes in our treatment methods, which I will be doing very soon. Second, I became an empty nester in August, and I have so much time on my hands now. One would think this would increase productivity, but I have found it to have the opposite effect. I have not worked outside the home in a full-time position since my oldest daughter was born, and since then, my focus has been on raising my children and caring for my family and home. I used to be so organized and had many volunteer commitments when my daughters lived at home, but now that I have much more time on my hands and less required of me, I find myself to be less productive than ever. I am so frustrated by this, and it has to change!

My first steps for the new year will include purchasing a new planner (I tried a digital planner this past year, but I miss the physical paper planner) and filling in all of the commitments I am aware of currently. I have been spending some time researching how other women set their goals and how to plan daily tasks in order to create habits. Until recently, I have not spent time learning about goal setting, and I believe this has contributed to the condition described in the 1967 booklet, Tyranny of the Urgent, by Charles Hummel. He wrote about the tension between things that are urgent and things that are important. We often sacrifice important things in order to react to urgent things. But Hummel warned that “your greatest danger is letting the urgent things crowd out the important.” I know I have experienced this personally, and it contributes to the feeling that I am chasing my tail every day without ever accomplishing anything besides the required daily “urgent” requirements. I hope that setting some specific long-term goals will help me move past the feeling that I am constantly treading water.

As a woman of faith, I truly seek to understand God’s will for my life. I don’t want to miss an opportunity because I am stuck in a rut or bogged down by daily obligations which could be streamlined and ordered in a more efficient manner if only I attended to the planning of them. My resolution for the new year is also my prayer: may I not be afraid to hope for better days, and may I make it a habit to steward my time wisely.

Teach us to realize the brevity of life, so that we may grow in wisdom. Psalm 90:12

Strong as a Mother

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According to Wikipedia, International Women’s Day is a global holiday celebrated annually on March 8 to commemorate the cultural, political, and socioeconomic achievements of women. I always enjoy celebrating the accomplishments of women from all walks of life and every nation and culture, and if I am being completely honest, I believe the accomplishments of women should be celebrated more than once a year.

I want to take a moment now to highlight a specific cultural achievement of women in 2020-21: the raising, fostering, and education of children by mothers during a pandemic.

I have had the honor and blessing to serve as a mentor to a “younger moms” bible study group for the past 2 years. Prior to the pandemic, we met in person to socialize and study scripture together. Of course, that all changed once Covid reared its ugly head. Like the rest of the modern world, we began meeting via Zoom, and that is where we reside today. It has been an interesting journey to follow along with these moms of young children as we navigated this unprecedented (for our generation) time.

Never before has so much responsibility been placed squarely on the shoulders of moms, as during this pandemic. They continued their prior roles as chief caretaker, nutritionist, housekeeper, and nurse (to name a few), but added on the role of full-time teacher to students who were being asked to transition to schoolwork fully presented online. Parents who never before considered themselves as appropriate candidates for homeschool, found themselves involuntarily placed into entirely new roles.

I have watched as they have experienced the exhaustion and frustration that any such sacrifice brings. I believe many of them do not give themselves the credit they deserve for handling the upheaval so well, but I have to say, they have exceeded all of my expectations. I personally do not know if I would have been able to handle all of the duties as well as they have. I enjoyed the quarantine with my adult daughters and saw it as “bonus” time that I never expected to receive. But let’s be real…24/7 with young children takes a certain level of patience and energy that can only be described as supernatural. Mamas of littles….when I think about celebrating strong women in our culture, I think about you. You may not receive a salary, or an accolade for your efforts, but your reward will come one day. You will receive the honor of watching your little children grow into independent adults, and you will know that, with God’s help, you had a major role in that. You’re growing the next generation of strong women, and strong men, who in my opinion, have an equally important role in life as partners and supporters of strong women.

So as we celebrate the accomplishments of women, let us not forget to honor the unsung heroes who raise the next generation.

A Knock at the Window

I made a new friend. This would seem to be an irrelevant event during normal times, but these days of living life in a pandemic hardly seem normal, at least not to the partial extravert residing inside of me.

I doubt anyone would guess where I made my new friend, Jackie. I met her in the grocery store parking lot. Yes, you read that correctly. I met a new friend after I went grocery shopping at my local store, like I have done for 15 years. The last 8 months, I have spent the time in the grocery store masked-up and hastily searching for the necessary items my family needs, all while trying not to get too close to anyone else. The days of standing in the local grocery store visiting with local friends whom I have randomly encountered seem like a distant memory to me. I find it very difficult to even make eye contact with another person while shopping, much less to strike up a conversation. Believe me, it is not for lack of trying on my part. I so long for human interaction, that I will try to speak to fellow shoppers, but I don’t see many who wish to reciprocate. I even say “excuse me” if I feel as if I am in someone’s way, hoping to hear a response, which usually doesn’t come. I find it sad, to be honest, and sometimes I wonder if this new anti-social dynamic is reversible.

How, you may be wondering, did I meet my new friend? I was sitting in my car, choosing a podcast to listen to on the way home, and I heard a tap on my window. It surprised and startled me a bit, but I saw an older lady at my window and I quickly rolled it down. She had seen the Baylor license plate holder on the back of my car, and wanted to ask if I had attended college at Baylor. I was happy to report that I had graduated from there many years ago, and she was happy to volunteer that her granddaughter had recently graduated from Baylor with a nursing degree. We chatted for several minutes. In that short time, I learned that my new friend had been married to a radiologist (just as I am) and he had died two years before with alzheimer’s and a cancer diagnosis that had only given him 2 weeks to remain on earth. She reflected that she was glad he had not suffered, and that he was a Christian when he died. She laughed that he had not been when he was younger, and we both agreed that we are all on a journey with different timings with regards to our faith and salvation. She had moved here to be near her daughter, who happens to be a University professor, and an atheist. She briefly touched on the struggle that she has with that latter-mentioned reality. We talked about church services and bible studies and she shared her favorite online pastor with me, and we exchanged phone numbers before parting ways.

I left feeling so encouraged, and frankly amazed at how quickly we spoke about very personal and significant topics. We texted each other and agreed to stay in touch. The next day, she texted me and wanted to meet at the parking lot again so she could share a book with me that she believed I would enjoy. I gratefully accepted her generosity and borrowed a few books from her. I look forward to meeting up with her again soon to return the books and plan to have a little something to share with her as a way to thank her.

My new friend is 80 years old, and I am in my 50’s. She was married to a radiologist and raised two children, just as I have done. We share a faith in Jesus Christ and a passion for learning about scripture. She used to be a brunette (as am I) until a few years ago, and has offered tips on how to transition to gray when I am ready. For years, one of my missions has been to encourage women who are younger than I am, as they are navigating motherhood. The bible verses in Titus 2:3-5 advises older women to teach younger women about living life in Godly ways. I have had the great honor to lead a bible study with younger moms, and I’ve been privileged to have a mother who is an excellent example of a Godly woman. Now, I believe God has placed Jackie in my life so that I have a local, older friend who wants to encourage me in my path. We can encourage each other in these very strange times.

I don’t know how Jackie had the courage to knock on a stranger’s window in the parking lot that day; I am just so glad she did. In a time when we are so isolated and homebound, it is such a sweet reminder that there are still people out there who want to be in community with others. We are not meant to live in isolation. So the next time you consider stepping out in courage to make a new friend, I hope you will take the chance. Knock on the window…you just might make a beautiful new friend.

Covid College Blues

It’s September of 2020, and we are in the “who knows what” phase of a pandemic. My daughter is in her last year of college, and It’s so much harder than we ever thought it would be. Her campus is supposedly a hybrid of virtual and in-person instruction, but all of her 13 semester hours are virtual. Prior to the semester beginning, at least a few classes were going to be offered in-person, and we watched as slowly but surely, emails arrived from all of her professors notifying her of the change. 

Before the semester began, my thoughts went immediately to the freshmen students who would be facing so many restrictions with regards to socializing. How would they ever get to know people with all of the campus being so guarded, and mask mandates? I never once thought about how challenging it would be emotionally on the upperclassmen. My daughter attends a large state University in which the majority of the students live off campus. She lives in a townhouse with a roommate within a few minutes of campus. She is a member of a sorority, but she is unable to go to the sorority house for meals, which she has enjoyed the last 2 years. Only members who live in the house are allowed to dine there. If she were to choose to drop by the house to study, or visit, she would have to comply with the campus mask policy, and wear a mask the entire time.  I am not suggesting that masks should not be worn, but many of us can agree that socializing for any length of time is just not easy with masks.  She says she just doesn’t want to expend the energy of driving to campus and parking and walking to the sorority house, just to sit around in a mask with other people.

She often spends her days in her bedroom on her computer listening to lectures and completing her assignments. I have encouraged her to get out of her apartment to take a walk, or exercise at the gym, which she has done, and that has helped. Her small group of friends who also live off campus, are making efforts to study together outdoors, and have meals together. Unfortunately, a few weeks ago, her campus had a spike in Covid cases, and some of her friends had to quarantine due to possible exposure, and she was forced back into a version of solitary confinement again as she waited for her friends (who tested negative) to end their quarantine.

My daughter was diagnosed with OCD at the age of 7. Depression goes hand in hand with anxiety, and as her mother, I am aware of the risk that she can fall into a depression quickly. I have the luxury of living near her, and we exercise at the same gym, and she comes home for meals some. This has allowed me to check on her and see her face, and I can tell when the depression is hitting her, just by looking at her. When she is tired all the time, and doesn’t take time on her appearance, I know that she is struggling. I see those signs now, and it concerns me. She regularly sees a therapist and has a psychiatrist to help manage her health, but living with anxiety and depression is a daily struggle for her, and as her mother it is also my struggle. I worry for the young adults who may be far from home in this pandemic, and who may not have the friends or family to look after them, or the resources for therapy and medical care. These are new struggles that none of us have ever dealt with before, and it is an emotional burden to deal with.

To all of the public health officials and University administrators, I sympathize with your very challenging roles as decision makers in a time when all of the choices seem to be “rock” or “Hard Place”. You have a responsibility to encourage healthy behaviors and protect the public from life threatening illness. However, you must balance that with the other risks that come from social isolation. Humans are meant to be in community with each other, and when that cannot happen, this creates other life threatening risks, such as major depression.

I write this because I know I am not the only mom who is struggling with these concerns in 2020. I do not claim to know the answers and I am not suggesting we be reckless with behaviors. I am suggesting that there is a bigger picture to Covid than physical ailments, and it is time for them to be included in the public health discussion.

Antidote to Hopelessness

I was raised in the church all of my life, and although I attended a Christian University, and took two semesters of bible classes, I have never read the bible in its entirety. I began reading through the bible chronologically a few years ago. I am not on any official plan, and I do not read it every day, but I am trying to read through all of it at my own pace. I have found that reading it chronologically has made it easier for me to understand the stories within the context of history, and it has helped all of the stories that I have learned about over the years make more sense.  

Recently, I found myself in Jeremiah 29.  One of the bible verses that I have heard much of my life is from Jeremiah 29:11. It reads “For I know the plans I have for you, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future.” 

As I stated before, this verse is not new to me, but this morning I read it within the context of the entire paragraph and this taught me something I have never known before. God’s people were living in exile when He made this promise to them. They were living in Babylon, which is known to have been a place where pagan gods were worshiped, and sexual immorality was the norm. It was the center of idolatry, and God’s own people were exiled there as a result of their choices to turn against God’s laws.  Scripture tells us in Jeremiah 29:10 that God planned for the Israelites to stay in Babylon for 70 years. Basically, an entire generation would live their lives in a foreign land, living with different values than those around them.  God’s plan all along was to give them a future and a hope and to prosper them, but it surely must have been hard to believe as they were living out their time as exiles in a foreign land.  As the world navigates through a pandemic, I think we all have woken up to living life in a world that looks very different than it did a few months ago. All of the new social practices and health fears can have us all feeling like we are exiles living in a foreign land.  The daily news briefings and changing information can leave us frightened and feeling insecure about our present and our future. 

I always envisioned Jeremiah 29:11 as a “rainbows and unicorns”, sugary sweet, upbeat kind of bible verse. It’s the kind of verse you find on hand-lettered wall art, or throw pillows. Turns out, that is not how it was delivered to God’s people “back in the day”. Instead, it was delivered during a time of transition and difficulty, as a reminder that, although things looked desperate at the time, better times were ahead, eventually.  In our current situation of life in a global pandemic, where EVERYTHING we know has been turned upside down, and things look desperate and difficult, as a Christian I trust that God’s promises never change. Yes, we must endure our present circumstances, but not without the knowledge that God plans to prosper us and give us a future and a hope, eventually. I suppose the only thing better than living with such hope would be to pass it on to others around us who cannot see the promise of hope in their present circumstances.

To put this into context with our current events, we know there are carriers of COVID-19 who are asymptomatic; they have been exposed but it’s undetectable to others that they carry the virus. It makes me wonder, as followers of Jesus we know we are exposed to His message of hope and light, but is it detectable to others? Are we carriers of hope walking around without the symptoms? Have we allowed the fear of the changing world around us to diminish the hope we receive from an unchanging God?

I have personally struggled with fear and negativity at times during this pandemic, especially in the early days. I was fearful for my own family and sad for so many who were experiencing loss of life and livelihood. I knew I had to find a way to change my focus away from fear, because once you have taken all the proper precautions to protect yourself from whatever it is you deem fearful, fear itself does nothing to help anyone. I noticed that when I became intentional to begin my day with prayer and spend a few minutes reading scripture, it helped me keep my eye on God’s promises. It’s a light in the darkness; some might say scripture serves as an antidote to hopelessness.

There are many around us who are struggling to come up for air in a vortex of fear and anxiety. I believe we have a calling to share our hope with others around us. You can safely bet there are people in your circle who are struggling right now. Some are Christian believers, and some are not; some read God’s words and some never will, but in either case, they are feeling overwhelmed by their circumstances and may need an extra prayer, or a kind text or handwritten note reassuring them that they are not alone. We all know how a  simple act of kindness to a friend or a stranger can brighten up someone’s day. It too can serve as an antidote to hopelessness. For many, the world feels like an extra dark place right now, and the only solution for darkness is a little more Light. As the days unfold and we face new uncertainties and new life patterns, I hope we will all cast our light wherever we are able.  I want to be a carrier of hope and I want to have ALL the symptoms. 

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