From This Side of COVID

Well.

After two years, four months, and several odd days of fearing it, preparing for it, guarding against it, and wondering if I had it…finally, COVID found me.

And while I can confidently say that I am one of the lucky ones, in that it hasn’t sent me to the hospital, prevented me from caring for my dog, or really and truly debilitated me – I can also just as confidently say that it has been rough.

Getting COVID is a surprisingly emotional experience – at least I found it to be so. There are the ordinary emotions of feeling sick, weak, humbled and unable to carry on normally – the things we feel when we have a bad cold or a stomach flu – but with COVID these are also coupled with a good deal of lingering trauma from the last couple of years. Many people have gotten this and died – will I be one of them? It’s scary to get sick, but even more so without the protection of vaccines and boosters, or the promise of antiviral treatments – what must it have been like to have COVID under those conditions?

I texted with friends of mine the day I got that first positive test result, and we talked about the rollercoaster of COVID feelings. I cried a lot that day, from the overwhelm and uncertainty, the pent up anxieties of trying to avoid this exact scenario for so long, and the fear of what this diagnosis had meant for others and could mean for me.

But by that evening, I was crying for other reasons. (My friends and I have agreed: tears should be added to the list of likely symptoms by the CDC).

It was because I woke up to a phone call telling me that there were bags of groceries in my condo lobby, homemade soup and fresh bread, sports drinks and fruit.

There were friends who got my medicine from the pharmacy, friends who took my dog for a walk or an afternoon, friends who saw my name on the prayer list and emailed or texted: do you need anything? what can I do?

One sent a Door Dash gift card, so I could unapologetically order to my door whatever sounded good or necessary.

One showed up with both popsicles and Panera chicken soup when I said that either sounded amazing.

One asked if I needed trashy magazines (it made me laugh then, which I badly needed, and still makes me chuckle today).

And all of them, in their own way, reminded me: I don’t have to get through this on my own.

There will be help, and prayers, and check-ins, even after the initial days of isolation, while the fatigue lingers on and the cough won’t quit.

I cannot tell you precisely what that meant to me. What that means to me.

The truth is that I’m on day ten now, the last day that the CDC offers much guidance for what to do if you’re sick, the last day that you have much to grab onto in terms of: what do I do? What happens next?

And I still feel crummy. Not awful. But tired and congested and not my normal self.

This next phase, days 11 and onward, feels uncertain. How long until I get back to normal? When do I safely take a mask off with close friends? When am I no longer a risk to people I might visit?

These questions are swirling, and they can threaten to overwhelm me. But I keep coming back to you all, and your love, and care, and how God has shown up for me even in the midst of this.

And it’s enough, more than enough, to keep me going.

With a heart full of thanks,

Pastor Jen

The Good Thing in My Head

My dad, who was part of two hymnal commissions, was prone to say and repeat often that the hymnal is the best book of prayer, theology, and devotion the church has, and should sit alongside your bible on your night-stand. Nowadays both would be found by many of us on a phone app of some sort.

Whatever the case, the good thing going on in my head today is the little song we sometimes sing in repeated fashion, like a breath prayer: “Shepherd me O God, beyond my wants, beyond my fears, from death into life.” (Marty Haugen, GIA Publications, 1986). Here’s a link to listen to it: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T0kxWXHETlU. Of course its a paraphrased summary of Psalm 23, the most famous of all the psalms, which was ancient Israel’s hymnal.

It’s haunting melody stops me in my tracks, and reaches to my heart. And guess what, it’s short enough to stick in my aging memory, and return again and again! There are verses too, that offer language for life’s experiences of God’s presence in weariness, leading through life’s journey, shepherding love in seasons of dark valleys, and never-ending promises of life. Wonderful realities, but it’s that repeated refrain that holds me these days.

Separate from any plans or ideas or plans of mine, the song has been showing up as I pass in and out of the doorways of each days journey, like it is alive and inviting me to reach out to God in all my comings and goings. I can only attribute it to be evidence of the Holy Spirit’s bidding.

It’s gotten almost obsessive/compulsive, and just wonderful. Yesterday I must have found myself humming and muttering the words at least fifty different times. Just now, today, (2 p.m. Wednesday) it accompanied me to the doctor and back to my office. No radio blasting necessary! (Quite something for a rock and roll rebel!).

The more I sing it, the more it becomes the prayer of my soul. I feel as deeply as ever my need and longing for God’s presence, activity, and leading…if I will only “let go, and let God” as the schmaltzy saying goes.

Most of our neighbors on our street are Jewish and have mezuzahs, which are small pieces of Shema scripture wound up in a cylinder nailed to their doorposts. “Mezuzah” means doorpost in Hebrew. The shema begins “Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is One.” (Deuteronomy 6). It fulfills the command of God to “write the words of God on the gates and doorposts of your house.” More than anything, it’s a reminder that the God who saves, the God of Exodus, is with us as we go out and come in. We start continuously over with this simple truth.

For me, this haunting little song has become like that. We’ll sing it together in our worship soon, and the choir will help lead us. But until then, make it your mezuzah!

“Shepherd me, O God, beyond my wants, beyond my fears, from death into life.”

Love from here

PETER HAWKINSON

The Good Thing in My Head

My dad, who was part of two hymnal commissions, was prone to say and repeat often that the hymnal is the best book of prayer, theology, and devotion the church has, and should sit alongside your bible on your night-stand. Nowadays both would be found by many of us on a phone app of some sort.

Whatever the case, the good thing going on in my head today is the little song we sometimes sing in repeated fashion, like a breath prayer: “Shepherd me O God, beyond my wants, beyond my fears, from death into life.” (Marty Haugen, GIA Publications, 1986). Here’s a link to listen to it: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T0kxWXHETlU. Of course its a paraphrased summary of Psalm 23, the most famous of all the psalms, which was ancient Israel’s hymnal.

It’s haunting melody stops me in my tracks, and reaches to my heart. And guess what, it’s short enough to stick in my aging memory, and return again and again! There are verses too, that offer language for life’s experiences of God’s presence in weariness, leading through life’s journey, shepherding love in seasons of dark valleys, and never-ending promises of life. Wonderful realities, but it’s that repeated refrain that holds me these days.

Separate from any plans or ideas or plans of mine, the song has been showing up as I pass in and out of the doorways of each days journey, like it is alive and inviting me to reach out to God in all my comings and goings. I can only attribute it to be evidence of the Holy Spirit’s bidding.

It’s gotten almost obsessive/compulsive, and just wonderful. Yesterday I must have found myself humming and muttering the words at least fifty different times. Just now, today, (2 p.m. Wednesday) it accompanied me to the doctor and back to my office. No radio blasting necessary! (Quite something for a rock and roll rebel!).

The more I sing it, the more it becomes the prayer of my soul. I feel as deeply as ever my need and longing for God’s presence, activity, and leading…if I will only “let go, and let God” as the schmaltzy saying goes.

Most of our neighbors on our street are Jewish and have mezuzahs, which are small pieces of Shema scripture wound up in a cylinder nailed to their doorposts. “Mezuzah” means doorpost in Hebrew. The shema begins “Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is One.” (Deuteronomy 6). It fulfills the command of God to “write the words of God on the gates and doorposts of your house.” More than anything, it’s a reminder that the God who saves, the God of Exodus, is with us as we go out and come in. We start continuously over with this simple truth.

For me, this haunting little song has become like that. We’ll sing it together in our worship soon, and the choir will help lead us. But until then, make it your mezuzah!

“Shepherd me, O God, beyond my wants, beyond my fears, from death into life.”

Love from here

PETER HAWKINSON