Tag: Quarantine

Do you have 20/20 vision in 2020?

I got new glasses this week. I knew it was time to schedule another annual vision exam because of the tell-tale signs. Blurry vision, tired eyes and headaches had started to plague my senses. It became much harder to see clearly in the dark. After my exam, my optometrist dialed my new eye prescription into his fancy contraption. Then he asked me to read the familiar letters on the wall. As I looked through the lenses, the letters that had just been blurry could now be read with no problem at all. The doctor happily exclaimed, “With this new prescription, your vision is 20/20 again.”

For those who aren’t quite sure what 20/20 vision means, below is how the internet defines this term: 

“Normal” vision is 20/20.  This means the people having their eyes tested can see the same line of letters at 20 feet that a person with normal vision can see at 20 feet.  20/40 vision means a person can see at 20 feet what a person with normal vision can see at 40 feet. 

With my new glasses, I can see clearly again. Having 20/20 vision is a wonderful thing!

But what about the vision we all had at the beginning of this year? I am not talking about our eyesight this time. I am referring to our hopes and dreams for the actual year of 2020. I remember December 31, 2019…New Year’s Eve. Our house was full of teenagers. Dick Clark’s New Year’s Rockin’ Eve was playing on the TV. There was laughter and sparkling grape juice in fancy glasses. There was the countdown to midnight, noise makers, and silly hats. There were photos and people loudly yelling “Happy New Year!”

2020 was supposed to be a big year in our family. It was supposed to be momentous. One of my children is graduating from high school. There was an international mission trip with a youth group planned. The tennis team at the high school showed great promise for an incredible season. There was cheerleading tryouts scheduled and a senior prom to attend. There was a LIVE May graduation set to occur, and graduations parties to schedule. There were college choices to make and a long-awaited pilgrimage to Israel to take.

Then the world came to a screeching halt when the novel coronavirus became a global pandemic.  Fear gripped our world as we all began living in unprecedented times that included state-mandated quarantine and toilet paper shortages.  Life became dark and the days became monotonous as one day blurred into the next.   The stock market crashed.  Our eyes grew tired from increasing screen time and burned from the occasional tears that were shed as we contemplated the life that we once took for granted but was no more, at least for this season.  The world grew darker.  With each passing news cycle, the news worsened.  Death counts rose. 

Racial injustices occurred.  Lives were lost. Families were left grieving with no answers.  There were riots, looting, and cries for justice.  The world continued to grow darker as hopelessness, despair, anger and bitterness fed our need for change.

But other things happened, too. Beautiful things. Things that brought hope and connection. Gifts began arriving for our high school senior from her church community, from family, and from friends. We explored new ways to connect via technology that has kept our small group community engaged and involved. We’ve learned to play games with people in other locations via video conferencing. My husband and I did not lose our jobs and have continued to be able to work. Cheer leading was rescheduled. So was graduation, to allow for a LIVE graduation later in the summer. Our youngest began driving. There was a home-grown prom that took place with our girl and a few of her school friends. I began leading a virtual women’s study online, allowing women from a few states and time zones to attend and learn together. Our college-aged son moved back home, meaning our family is all back under one roof again. We celebrated our wedding anniversary and I celebrated both my birthday and Mother’s Day while in quarantine. You know what? These were some of the sweetest, most meaningful celebrations we have had in years. The world has been dark. Life has been hard. But there has been light and mercy visible in every single day.

I am the Light of the world

Jesus

The darkness of our current situation has drudged up a memory from my college years…a time, just for a moment, when I experienced literal, physical darkness. I had travelled with several friends to a camp named Ridgecrest in North Carolina. One night we decided as a group to get up very early the next morning, while it was still dark, and climb up to the top of a mountain to watch the sunrise.

I had no idea what I had signed up for.  I was completely unaware of how difficult the climb would be.  We started off together as a group, but some of us were slower and less adept at climbing, so soon we found ourselves lagging behind the faster climbers.  To make matters worse, none of us in the slower group had flashlights.  We were walking blind, in the pitch-blackness, up a mountain.  Our saving grace was that occasional beam of light seen from a flashlight carried by the group that had gone ahead of us.  Our group was not aware of the potential danger because our eyes were focused on the light.  Those beams of light, flashing across the sky like a light saber in the Star Wars franchise, served as a beacon to keep us on the trail and to allow us to reach the top of the mountain in one piece. 

It wasn’t until we began our descent back down the mountain, as the sun rose in the sky above us, that I realized how potentially precarious our climb had been. The downed trees, mountain crevices and rock outcroppings we had not seen during our climb because of the early morning darkness were now in full view. The revelation of the presence of these potentially dangerous barriers was eye-opening and made me even more grateful for the morning light.  It was this light that made the path clear and kept us safe on our way back to camp.   

The Bible talks a lot about light. That’s because light brings clarity. Light brings perspective. Light brings direction. Light brings salvation. So, it should come as no surprise to hear Jesus say, in the gospel of John 8:17, “I am the light of the world.” He goes on to say, “If you follow me, you won’t have to walk in darkness, because you will have the light that leads to life.”

Some people are offended when Jesus speaks of being the light of the world. This Jesus girl isn’t one of those people. Because once you have experienced darkness, both literally (Remember that mountain?) and figuratively (Hello, 2020!), you begin to realize how precious that light is. It doesn’t just bring life. It provides perspective. It makes the blurry things crystal clear.

So, how do we achieve 20/20 vision in 2020?  We get to know the Light of the world.  He doesn’t promise an easy journey.  But His light will provide perspective and direction every step of the way.    

I See You

COVID-19, sheltering at home and quarantine has caused many of us to share tight quarters with those we love.  But close quarters for long periods of time can cause us to begin to focus on ourselves and our needs instead of seeing those who are physically right in front of us. Conversely, some of us are quarantined alone, hearing the deafening silence as we long for someone to share space with who will see us and bring comfort in our time of isolation.

I see you.  Have you felt overlooked or invisible?  Have you felt like those closest to you don’t know or see the real you?  Your dreams?  Your emotions?  Your struggles?  Your fears? Are you longing to be seen, just you, in your purest form?

These questions makes me think of the movie, “Avatar”.   This movie’s dialogue features a very prominent phrase: “I see you.”   Instead of saying “I love you”, the two main characters, as they fall in love, say “I see you” to each other.  But the context of this phrase means so much more than love.  It is a verbal confirmation of a bond that is emotional, spiritual and physical. It is confirmation that the person who hears that phrase isn’t just seen but is heard and loved in the deepest and most intimate of ways.     

There’s a story in the Bible in the Old Testament about a servant girl named Hagar. Hagar was the servant of Sarah, Abraham’s wife. God had promised to make Abraham a great nation. Yet because he and Sarah were old and infertile, they decided to take matters into their own hands instead of trusting God to allow Sarah to bear a child. Sarah gave Hagar to Abraham with the hopes Hagar would become pregnant.

The plan worked.  But once Hagar was pregnant, there was fighting and conflict between her and Sarah.  Tensions escalated so badly between the two of them, Hagar ran away into the desert.  A pregnant woman, alone in the heat of the desert, is a recipe for disaster or maybe even death.  Thankfully, Hagar found a stream.  While she was resting there, it says in Genesis 16 that an angel found her.  The angel encouraged her to return to Sarah.  The angel told Hagar she would have a son who would be the first of more descendants than she could even count.  The angel told her to name her son “Ishmael”, which means “God hears”.    

From that moment on, Hagar referred to God as “El Roi”, which means “The God who sees”.  Hagar was acutely aware God hadn’t just heard her pleas for help, but had seen her in her distress. Hagar felt seen, heard and known by the God of the universe.

Nehemiah, the cup-bearer (think secret service agent), to the king of Persia prayed this prayer in the Book of Nehemiah, verse 6. ‘O Lord, God of heaven, the great and awesome God who keeps his promises, look down and “see” me praying night and day for your people.’ Nehemiah knew the secret. When God sees, He acts. Every time. No exception.

The 2020 Lyrid Meteor shower peaks this week. Some star gazers like to call this meteor shower “Old Faithful”. This nickname came about because you can count on the Lyrid Meteor Shower to return to the Earth’s atmosphere and show off every single year.

A couple of nights ago, I went outside about 10 pm, bundled up in a blanket and a knit cap.  My son joined me, both of us on a quest to see a meteor streak across the sky.  Sitting outside in the dark it was surprisingly quiet, although that quiet was interrupted by treasured and spontaneous conversation that sparked between Brock and me. We chatted as we allowed our eyes to adjust to the darkness while scanning the eastern sky.

“I just saw one!” Brock exclaimed excitedly, pointing to a part of the sky just to the right of where my eyes had been focused.  “You did?”, I responded rather dejectedly.  “Didn’t you see it, Mom?”, he asked.  “No”, I said, but let’s sit out here a little bit longer.  I’m sure there will be another one.” 

We sat outside in the chilly night air for several more minutes until my darling boy said he was cold and was going to go inside to warm up. I told him I was going to stay outside and watch the sky just a little bit longer. I was cold, too, but I wanted to see a meteor. I NEEDED to see a meteor. Just one.

Once I was alone, as I continued to scan the night sky, I started a conversation with the One who made the stars. “I see You”, I began. “I see You in the flowers I saw coming to life along the path I walked today. I see You in this beautiful sky with all of the twinkling stars. But can I ask You a favor? I see You, but I really need to know You see me too…sitting right here…right now. The world has gone a little mad. In the middle of it all, please let me know you see me. Just one meteor. Please.”

I slumped down and let my head rest on the back of the bench. What I saw in that instant should come as no surprise. A meteor…just one…streaked across the sky. Maybe it was my imagination, but it seemed this meteor burned just a little brighter and longer, a wink from El Roi, the God who sees. A wink to let a daughter know she was not only seen, but heard, loved and known . So how did this daughter respond? That’s easy. I smiled, whispered, “Thank you,” and walked back inside the warm house so my outside could match the warm I now felt inside too.

“I stopped waiting for the light at the end of the tunnel and let God’s light set my heart on fire instead.”

House of Belonging