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Over the weekend, I finally got a few words out in my journal. –Mark

"I haven’t written here in a while, and it’s hard to know what to write. Some are chronicling the events, others pouring out their anxieties, and I guess all are probably valuable. We’re in the middle of a pandemic. COVID-19 is now a household name and something each household is hoping to avoid. People are wearing masks and searching for toilet paper. States and hospitals are searching for ventilators and PPE (something most of us didn’t even have in our vocabulary a few weeks ago). Businesses are struggling and families are hurting. God only knows what happens with the financial shortfall so many face.

What I do know is that there is a tension in my soul. I don’t think it’s just the anxiety with each cough that lingers or whose job will last. It’s a bigger fear... a fear that we are all just waiting for this to pass. I think we’re somehow assuming things will surely just get back to normal somehow.  But who says that’s a guarantee? Who says things have to last as long as the curve or the experts say? Why aren’t we pleading for a miracle like our lives depend on it? 

In one week, we’ll be in the middle of Easter weekend. In fact, one week from today will be that awkward Saturday between Friday’s horrible suffering and Sunday’s miracle morning. I guess we find ourselves in a similar “Saturday” of sorts. Our suffering has come and we need a miracle. If He could raise His son from the dead in 3 days, surely He can heal a countryno, wait, a worldjust a fast, right? God, I don’t know how many voices are in this small desperate and dependent chorus, but I’m adding mine. “Lord, have mercy... so you get the glory.” 

"If my people who are called by my name humble themselves, and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven and will forgive their sin and heal their land."
2 Chronicles 7:14