We have been bombarded since March with negative news, dire predictions, financial hardships, and an unsettling uncertainty for the future. Personally, I have struggled with anxious and racing thoughts. I am still mired in uncertainty and overwhelmed feelings planning for a new school year. But what does this look from Heaven’s point of view? What if our forced quarantine, time off, shutdown was a gift to our weary generation? We have oft thought that we were the busiest generation in history and technology was re-wiring our brains by shortening attention spans. We know as believers that God uses that which was meant to destroy us to bring good to us and thus, the kingdom. What if we are the children of the COVID blessing? What if HE is slowing us down for our own good?
What if we started journaling the blessings of COVID? Some of mine would be:
Watching my grandchildren play outside every day and discover the joy of the unscheduled time
Seeing the love of my teachers for their students and the way they grieved not being in the classroom
Taking a “social-distancing” outdoor vacation with my husband after three trips this summer were canceled.
(We did several NM stops at National Parks and on a lark, drove several hours and found the original
Stokes homestead in the high desert). I doubt we would have made time for that before.
Planning meals and trying out new recipes. I watched so many of you baking bread, canning, and cooking!
Gardening and fixing all the things at home that had been waiting for that “when we have time” moment
And one of my most important COVID blessings was a deep need to look at the faith of my crowd of witnesses and intentionally making sure I was leaving that for my children and grands! What a precious season of introspection I have had. We won’t get these days back and I pray I used them for the kingdom. I also spent time organizing my music on Pandora and listened to many old hymns with a new ear. Hold to God’s Unchanging Hands spoke to me during this season of COVID-19. I did some digging into its author, Jennie Wilson.
Jennie was confined to a wheelchair at age four and studied from home. Despite being an invalid at an early age, she was a voracious student of scripture. In 1881, she was baptized by being carried on a chair into a beautiful, tree-shaded stream, and, in her words, “it gave me much joy to thus confess my dear Savior.” Jennie is credited with writing 2200 poems and hymns. What is amazing to me, she never interjected any of her sadness from her condition into her works. How? The hymn I have chosen of hers today was written in 1908, eight years before her death at age 58. I am always awed at the glory of God that encourages us from faithful followers from the past. In our modern world, we tend to think of ourselves as so advanced, and yet in 1908, Jennie had the words for me in 2020.
Time is filled with swift transition
None, none earth unmoved can stand
Build your hopes on things eternal
And then hold, hold to God’s unchanging hand
Trust in Him who will not leave you
What, whatsoever the years may bring
Will your earthly friends forsaken you
Still, still more closely to Him cling
Everybody gotta hold (Hold to his hand)
Hold to God (God’s unchanging hand)
Everybody gotta hold (Hold to his hand)
Hold to God (God’s unchanging hand) His unchanging hand
Build your hope on thing eternal
And just hold to God unchanging hand
Listen, truth in Him
He won’t leave you, no He won’t
What, whatsoever the years may bring
Will you earthly friends
They will forsake you, yes they will
Still, still more closely to Him cling
As I close, please do not think I take the pain of COVID lightly. I have loved ones who have lost jobs, had to work as essential workers, and homeschool their children at the same time, and those that have suffered from the virus. I have grieved as I watched friends and family bury their loved ones alone. I have prayed over those in the hospital alone without their family at their side. My heart is torn with those closeted in nursing homes away from the very family they need for their own safety. It is one of the greatest tragedies of this season. Every tear that has been shed is held in the cup of the Lord’s hand. The same hand that Jennie held. The very same hand I am squeezing and the same hands that welcome us home!
Maranatha!
Jayme
