Dia Dhuit - - or "God be with you."
Well, here I am again, hoping to bounce back like I have done for lo these many years. You all know where I have been since I last posted—hunkered down for a PANDEMIC! So I thought that I would start on a lucky day with the Irish greeting above—today being St. Patrick’s Day—since I have a wee bit o’ the Irish DNA. I am claiming it since I love those folk of whom Sigmund Freud said:
“This is one race of people for whom psychoanalysis is of no use whatsoever.”
Amen, people who don’t like to be pigeon-holed but who nonetheless are:
“ . . . thus inclined: religious, frank, amorous, ireful, sufferable of infinite pains, vain-glorious, with many sorcerers, excellent horsemen, delighted with warring, great almes-givers and surpassing in hospitality . . . They are sharp-witted, lovers of learning, adventurous, kind-hearted and secret in displeasure.” (words of Englishman Richard Stanihurst a few hundred years back.)
I fall somewhere in there, so I say it again— Dia dhuit.
IF you ever followed my blog even a little bit, you saw me post periodically. But until today a Valentine’s post for 2020 was my last. I just got busy for a while and THEN 2020 got really interesting/bad/challenging/frustrating/scary and horrific . . . whatever you want to call it.
Just what set our world on its ear? A PANDEMIC occurred—aka a Coronavirus, COVID-19, that odious curse that exploded into our lives. And from there the year devolved into one of the worst I have seen in a long time. (Keep in mind, I am pretty old, and had even lived through an EPIDEMIC in the form of Polio that clobbered me, leaving me with a limp for life)—so I’ve seen a lot. Where do you think this silver hair came from?!
It was suggested that we quarantine, so I did for 2 weeks, only visiting my grocery store for a “no contact,” “stay 6 feet apart” pickup of my groceries. So it went for 14 days. But then the news got worse—death rates were reported higher, businesses could not serve patrons properly and many had to shut down. The search for a vaccine was begun. Something that required such measures sounded way too familiar to me.
2020 then tumbled into an abyss of inky despair. The Government reported bad news and more deaths each day. We were advised to wear protective masks. Many cities went further with a mandate in the form of a city ordinance that we must wear masks or pay a fine.
Every day brought news that tried our souls. And THEN the election rolled around. Now no matter whom you cast a vote for, or what your personal political beliefs are, I think you will have to agree that it was a debacle of an election time. No matter what side you were on—you could see the division in the good ol’ USofA.
Like many I grew somewhat depressed. My daily routine here at home did not change much. I was already a “germaphobe” so I have always done a lot of scouring, hand washing, counter cleaning, etc.
The only normal thing became homeschooling. After a proper quarantine period for both of us, my granddaughter returned and we hit the books again for the 10th grade curriculum. The dreary day’s news was mitigated by studying a biography of Tesla, reading the Bible, a history of the American people, and Les Miserables by Victor Hugo, and so forth and so on.
But still it got worse. Every day more bad news, more division, more people in need of assistance. And each day my blood pressure climbed. I could feel it when I would watch the news reports and it did not quit until I fell asleep in my recliner or my head hit a bonafide pillow.
This was definitely NOT my first rodeo. The polio that hit me in 1954 was swift and debilitating and forced me to my bed. I had friends who were now bemoaning not being able to go out and shop, see friends, etc. It was getting to me as well, but I told them when they had to spend a year and a half in the same room, in the same bed, with this land of counterpane interrupted only by a visit to the hospital for physical therapy---well, THEN we could talk. I know it sounds harsh of me, but hey, most of us here in 2020 could walk around, go from room to room, read, watch TV, talk to our friends and make that weekly visit for that grocery pick up—appropriately attired of course, like some lab technician.
I finally did reach my breaking point. I lifted up my eyes to the hills, to see if any help might “cometh.” As a Christian woman I prayed SO MUCH that I figured God might just step in with a solution just to get rid of me. I prayed for those who were sick to recover, for those who were well to stay that way. I prayed for those who had COVID and for their families, and yes, I prayed for all the people—politicians and plain old folk—who were clearly doing things that were just wrong. I was an equal opportunity pray-er. I certainly prayed for my little circle of friends and my family and yes, myself. I wanted God to make it all go away. I wanted peace.
But I remembered a verse in the Bible from Jeremiah 6, “. . . Peace, peace; when there is no peace.” I just might not get that peace I wanted so desperately. I worried that our world and nation had become so Godless that peace was not in my future. Maybe, like many other times in my life I would just have to tough it out. Perhaps I should let go and let God handle it from there. I turned to God and then to one of the authors I trust—Max Lucado and re-read When God Whispers Your Name. I read the weekly devotionals/words of wisdom that our pastor was sending us--more words I trust. I prayed some more. And then it happened. Peace settled over me like an uneasy blanket. I am such a worrier that it could not have happened suddenly. God had to let me decompress and breathe or I might get the bends. It has wrecked the last year. You all know as you have been right in the thick of it with me.
So now I am decompressing, still breathing, still praying and hoping that once again good will trounce evil. I pray that no other plague will be loosed, whether by nature or man. I pray that we will depart from what seems like a world right out of the pages of the Old Testament.
I think we will. You see, I do not believe we are totally Godless. I have always believed in the inherent goodness of man--I just needed a little self-coaching on what I believed. I have always felt that when the chips are really down, the good people will step in. They will still vote, still take soup to a neighbor, still contribute and share, still hold to their ideals, still pray. They will endure until they PREVAIL.
So, I ask you to join me on my way down to sanity. Keep going, keep hoping, gain solace from your faith. Turn things over to that higher power. It’s really simple—let me start: “Our Father who art in heaven . . .