Last night after a game of Monopoly with the kiddos, my little man and I were hanging on the couch. He turned to me, with wide eyes starting to well with tears.
“Mommy, why are they letting people die?”
My heart cracked. We have been talking openly with both of them, while minimizing the amount of news we consume, encouraging them to ask questions, finding ways we could all step outside ourselves and help others, and trying our best to help them fix their lens on all that is good.
But his little heart, like mine, couldn’t help but think about the people suffering while we are at home singing and playing board games.
I took a deep breath, and locked eyes with him.
“Honey, tell me more.”
And he proceeded to share his feelings, his fears, the things that worried him, and I opted just to listen. I could see as he released it without interruption, he became calmer.
Instead of preach, instead of a “turn that frown upside down” response, instead of reminding him of all the things his soul knows about life, I chose to just give him space to let the air out of the balloon, and slowly the fear-filled bubble that built up inside of him disintegrated with every word he spoke, every tear he shed.
I’m certain we all have had moments like this. Moments where fear or concerns or grief takes over, making it hard to be still and know. If we leave those feelings trapped inside they wreak havoc on the body. Let them out. Let them go. No need to rehash or stew in those thoughts, stewing will make them seep in more. Just dump them out so all that is clouding your mind is gone and you can better listen to your heart.
I believe our souls know this beautiful, glorious, painful, heartbreaking life is but a blink. And every moment of it matters. Our souls know that love is the great Healer, the great I AM, the great miracle worker. Yes, a miracle can be healing the body so we have more time to do the work we were appointed to do here. But the soul knows that healing comes in many forms, not just in the way we wish the human body to heal. A miracle can be setting the body free to give more light to the world. And while that sucks for our human experience, one day in the reunion of souls, we will understand.
I’ve learned that praying for solely what I want can be selfish, to keep me from feeling pain or shelter others too much from it, and if the outcomes differ from my prayer, that can be devastating. Asking God to keep His promises, weaving all things together for good, and just surrendering to this human experience leads me down a totally different path than the road of fear and worry ever does. Trust me, I travel those roads sometimes, too. They always leave me anxious and afraid.
So while right now we are getting a birds eye view of hospitals, ventilators, and our mortality, before this pandemic and after, we must realize that people die every day. Some in the most horrific ways, some in the natural course of life, but eventually, we all will pass on. We have to know in our hearts that this life in human form is our temporary home. Perhaps the lesson we need most is the value of it. The gift this life is. Perhaps we need to remember to celebrate the little things, the soap bubbles on our fingers, the smell of fresh linens, the sound of giggles from our children, the blooms on trees after a winter retreat.
And perhaps we need to know that those doing God’s work, being His hands and feet here on earth, our healthcare workers, our teachers, our truckers, our device makers, our men and women in service, our volunteers, all those doing what they can to make the most of life for others, these people should be honored and celebrated.
Maybe the world needs to see one another through the lens of compassion, and forgive those things that separate us allowing love to fill all gaps.
Maybe this quarantine isn’t about isolation or separation but connection, reminding us how deeply connected we are to one another, how much we need one another. Maybe it’s about connecting us to our source, we were born of love, we must to return to love. Love is not something we give or receive but rather it is our being. Those gifts you share – that is you being love. The dinner you put on the table – that is you being love. The person you care for – you being love. The song you sing – love. The letter you write – love still. The cookies you bake, the picture you paint, the phone call you make, the smile you share – all love. Maybe that is what this pause is for, I don’t know. I do know my soul pulls me in this direction, showing me these words to share. But I might just need more coffee.
