Lights in the Tunnel

NOTE: The first few paragraphs are an excerpt from an email I sent to donors this past Friday. I add more thoughts today at the end. 

I do NOT like driving through the Lincoln Tunnel. At all. E-VER. A million lanes zippering into 2 and then that looooong stretch where I know the river is right above me and my radio conks out so I verbally pray my way through to break the silence. All I keep waiting for is the daylight at the end, that first bit of, "Ooooo! There it is!" which floods me with the relief that it's almost over and then YAY! I have to navigate NYC traffic (Wahoo!) but still--I'm out of the tunnel. 

Over the last few weeks as this COVID 19 pandemic has created so many changes to the way we live, I've reminded myself that at some point we WILL see the light at the end of the tunnel. It WILL come. AND, just as in the Lincoln tunnel, there are lights along the way to keep us from being in total darkness. There are blessings and bright spots--sometimes we just have to take our eyes off the place in the distance where we believe the tunnel will end and look up--the lights are there.  

Imagine being homeless amidst all this!? Rough for sure on many levels but boy are our kids being troopers! I worked a few shifts at our crisis shelter this week and shared with the kids that many of you have reached out asking about them and our staff, how are we managing, are they doing okay, what do we need, how can their spirits be lifted, etc. They were surprised but a bit amazed also. I asked a few of them to share how they felt about it all. 

They said it was great that people actually cared, that they hadn't been forgotten. A few folks brought or delivered take out which lifted their spirits WAY high, just to be able to do the "normal" stuff again, like eat Chick-fil-a, subs, and ziti dinners. Life sized Connect Four that someone donated was a big hit as well as the art supplies that began coming in so they could be creative. Homemade brownies and snacks were an unexpected treat. 

They also recognize the simple blessings of having a safe place to go, staff that keep coming in day after day to care for them and try to keep them busy, the facilities staff they see cleaning over and over throughout the day, and the assurance that they will be able to eat, take a shower, wash their clothes, sleep in their own bed, etc. Bright spots...lights in the tunnel. 

This was Week 3 since the directive to work from home (aside from me helping to cover shifts). As a create of habit and "slave" to routine, this new way living--not just on the work front but having Mark home all the time, shopping differently, not being able to go to the gym, etc. has been tough. Really tough. Still, I have my own "lights in the tunnel" right now: having a job at all and being able to do that job remotely is huge, receiving the reimbursement from the pet insurance company this week that will help pay off Solomon's double elbow surgery, there was toilet paper at Shoprite, I can work outside, and Mark has been able to attend to a bunch of house and yard projects. 

I can't quite fathom, that it's Holy Week though...Shoprite has not had hyacinth which normally perfumes their entire lobby for weeks leading up to the holiday and screams, "Easter!" to me. Watching our nickels and dimes, I've neglected to get jelly beans which I normally use to decorate with. Instead of helping to lead worship next Sunday I had to prerecord me singing a melody and two harmonies so we can present a "choir" of sorts during our worship service. 

The light I cling to though is that it IS Holy Week. Christ is still risen. The grave is still empty. And even if this tunnel stretches into May, His Word will continue to provide light to my path along the way. Amen.