Life as We Knew It

Water You turned into wine
Opened the eyes of the blind
There's no one like you
None like you
Into the darkness You shine
Out of the ashes we rise
There's No one like you
None like you

Our God is greater, our God is stronger
God You are higher than any other
Our God is Healer, awesome in power
Our God, Our God.

--Chris Tomlin

"Our God" played on the car radio while my husband, Mike, stood in the parking lot at work in the early morning darkness, saying goodbye to one of his coworkers. After tomorrow, they will be off work with pay for 15 days. His goodbye was for two weeks, but it sounded like a forever goodbye.

Maybe it was.

I pulled away, leaving Mike at work, and unexpected tears pushed their way down my face. Alone in the car, I felt silly for crying. The tears erupted from some sad place deep inside but I couldn't locate the source. I came home to an empty house, which usually delights me, but today, I didn't want alone time. I wanted the companionship of Christian radio. I listened to music while I tidied up the kitchen, and the tears faded.

Until a guest pastor came on the radio and prayed. He reminded listeners that God is still in control, that He is still the Great Healer, that He still sees me, that He still orchestrates events for His glory and my good. The tears started again.

Suddenly, I knew why I cried. I was mourning life as we knew it two weeks ago. Life before COVID-19. I was mourning my friends I didn't see Sunday morning, and my dear Bible study ladies that didn't come to my house on Tuesday. I was mourning the freedom to do non-essential shopping on a whim. I was mourning life's routines that provided security and a sense of well-being. I was mourning two of my friends whose crucial surgeries were postponed indefinitely. I was mourning our parents, ages 78, 81, and 88, as they find themselves without the understanding and coping skills to negotiate this circumstance.

And as much as I didn't want to admit it, I was afraid. Afraid life would never be the same. Would my husband's job still be there to come back to in two weeks? Which of my family, friends, and acquaintances might be absent from us in two weeks? How much more of our retirement money would be gone in two weeks? Was two weeks long enough? Is two months even long enough? What will be left at the end?

I was sad. I was afraid. And I think I was a little angry. I've tried to live my life somewhat "prepared" for the unexpected. I expected the unexpected to be another terrorist attack, or a mass power grid outage crippling our nation, or World War III, or even nuclear war. I didn't expect the unexpected to be so insidious. So invisible. So sneaky. So unfair. So non-discriminating. So...unexpected.

And then I remembered. I remembered I had already crossed this bridge, made this choice. I distinctly remembered deciding who I would trust, what I would believe, how I would behave, and how I would respond in unexpected, painful, uncontrollable, and sometimes unbearable circumstances. I remember giving God the reigns of my life. I remember telling Him I trusted Him no matter what.

So, really, the decision's been made. Am I going to go back on it now? Am I going to question my whole life's direction to this point? Or am I going to remember what I already decided, and why I chose this path. Am I going to stay the course?

Of course I am. Where else could I go? And why?

I am reminded of this Bible passage: John 6:66-68 After this many of his disciples turned back and no longer walked with him. So Jesus said to the twelve, “Do you want to go away as well?” Simon Peter answered him, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life."

I willingly choose to trust the One who spoke the storm and the waves quiet to calm the hearts of his friends. The One who multiplied the bread and fish to ease the hunger of strangers. The One who wept for the loss of a friend, then brought him back to life. The One who broke social protocol to speak life to a woman drawing water at a well, a woman who had already been judged by her peers for her sexual immorality. I choose to trust the One who willingly gave Himself up to be beaten and nailed to a cross for crimes He didn't commit; the One who chose death so I could go to Heaven.

I choose Jesus again, right now, today. I choose His peace, His goodness, His unselfishness, His grace.

Life as we knew it may, indeed, be gone for good, but I still get to choose what I believe. I choose to believe He is in control and at work in this world right now, and I resolve that my behavior will reflect what I believe.

What does your behavior reflect? What or whom do you choose?