This Too Shall Pass

4 week lockdown. When I heard that the UK announced another lockdown starting this week, my heart sank in my chest. Things already looked bleak ahead with tier 2 restrictions, but this is a new level of discouraging. Its hard to imagine what the weeks ahead look like, hard to think of the many Zoom and FaceTime calls ahead that will substitute community, hard to not be disappointed at all that I have already lost and will lose out on, hard to not fear for my mental health. Its hard not to lose hope.

Hope. Such a poignant word that I suspect many have a difficult relationship with. We all said we hoped the world would be back to normal by now. Surely, we thought, surely this will all be over by the summer, by the fall. Surely things can’t get worse. And now as winter creeps closer, that hope dies in disappointment. It was all false hope that didn’t stand the test of time, created by naive optimism that could have never predicted what was to come. If this is reality, how are we meant to carry on without hope?

As I was reminded today, if we are Christians, we can never be hopeless. It’s not that being hopeless is a sin, or something we shouldn’t do, it is literally contrary to being Christian. As Christians, we have the hope of salvation, the hope of a kingdom coming that is already here, and that, as 2 Corinthians 4-5 tells us, is all we need. We suffer now and endure with joy because our hope is sure. We have been given, by grace, a vision of God’s plan for a flourishing humanity, and that includes coming together with the body of Christ to glorify him, greeting each other with a holy kiss. That is why joy is part of the fruit the Spirit produces in us.

I certainly don’t feel joy right now, but if there is one thing that brings me comfort at least, it is the thought that this is not how things are meant to be. Because of that, I know that someday I will embrace others once again, even though I have no hope that day will come in this lifetime.

I’ve written a poem that synthesizes some of these thoughts into imagery. Its certainly not my best work, but I’ll share it anyway. Maybe it will resonate with you.

Hard days ahead
Horizon lost in the bleak grey clouds
    that gather, and suffocate
Is all the light behind me now?
I do not have the strength to endure
    to walk on in darkness
                                  alone.
There are others around me, masked, at arm's length
Their eyes as tired as my heart
     We search for a sun that does not break through
     And shout above the wind
     that whips words of comfort away
So I turn my face back to my feet
     Untouched and unheard.
My head leans forward, heavy with dreams
     of Maypole dancing in the spring
     Singing songs with the rivers and mountains
     Laughing hand in hand, kisses in the sun
I don't have hope that day will come this spring
But I walk on, with the promise of a new day.

If you’ve made it this far, thank you for reading. This posts feels more raw than others, and I want to be honest with my struggle when my feelings do not match up with what I know to be true. I covet your prayers whenever you think of it, but can I also encourage and challenge you to be praying for those who don’t have the same hope you’ve been given? Pray for them, and tell them why you hope.