These Times...

Here is what I have come to be reminded of: I am in a place of privilege. I have a home. My husband and children are in good health. We do not need routine appointments nor do we depend on medicines or life-saving treatments. Though work looks very different these days, I am still working. I can stay connected to my students and my fellow teachers. I am getting paid for this work, and I get to do my job from the safety of my home. We have enough technological devices for all of us to be learning, attending meetings, and teaching at the same time. This is privilege. We may not be considered wealthy in many circles, but to much of the world, we are. We have running water, and easy access to food and other necessities.

While pandemic swirls, threatens, and hovers, I find that people like me must do more. Whether we have the means and strength to do it now or the inspiration and planning to do it in the future, we should be invested in our communities and people. We have to help how and when we can.

Community looks different now. It has to. Community should be about eliminating disparity, providing for each other, uplifting one another, and covering one another in encouragement, and for me, prayer.

Maybe these times will help us reconnect with those we share living spaces with.
Maybe this will force us to reevaluate relationships we too quickly gave up on, and those that we have needed to walk away from.
Maybe this will force us to prioritize not only our needs, but the needs of our neighborhoods, our states, our nation, and the globe.
Maybe these times will cause some of us to dive into our faith and pursue a higher calling.
Maybe this will awaken a deep philanthropic desire in some of us to invest in causes that align with our vision for a better world.
Maybe this will illuminate our strength and our resilience, not only for ourselves, but for the care and welfare of others.

I want my children to recognize and remember that this was, in fact, a hard time for the world. Though we have the comfort of some worldly possessions and of each other's presence, we worry for our family and friends who are frontline workers. And not just for the ones we know, but for the ones we do not know and the ones we may never know or meet or read about.  Aside from possessions and each other, I believe that we find true comfort in a God who cares and listens. Every night, we pray for the spread of the virus to be slowed and stopped. We worry for those who are sick and those who have lost loved ones. We pray for those grieving and for those who are living without. We pray for those suffering from fear and anxiety and loneliness to somehow feel hope and valued and loved. We pray for healing and for miracles, together.

But I want my children to also remember that we tried to do what was right how and when we could. We followed guidelines and stayed educated. We tried to donate when we could. We tried to support small businesses. I want them to know we attempted to love others more than we loved ourselves, and that from what we had, we gave.

You see, when "these times" finally become "those times", I believe we will have gained a new perspective on how to deal with sickness, loss, and death. I wish for us a new understanding of our privilege, but also our blessings and favor.

May we somehow each play our part to do what is needed of us.
May we resist the urge to  feel helpless, and instead dig deeper to find solutions and offer hope.
May "these times" of distress and uncertainty be fought with awareness, kindness, and love.

I have a lot to learn, a long way to go, and so much more work that I should and could be doing... But it is my goal to make progress.
I hope I am.