Hope for Moms During the Coronavirus

I haven’t washed a single baseball uniform for five weeks. School lunchboxes sit like unused soldiers in my pantry. The living room couch has been my seat for church the past five Sundays. Spring 2020 has been anything but typical so far.

Like you, I’m feeling the weight of these circumstances, and I’m longing for the day when we can be together with our family and friends again.

Last week, I had the song, “Is He Worthy?” by Andrew Peterson playing on repeat. The lyrics met me right where I was.

• “Do you feel the world is broken?” YES! Lives of those with the virus, the economy, job security, 401Ks, vacation plans, kids’ aspirations – all, BROKEN. I’m wearing a mask into Publix these days, in case you’re wondering how broken it all feels right now.
• “Do you feel the shadows deepen? We do.” We feel it in the deepest, hidden places of our hearts.
• But the line that stopped me in my tracks and compelled me to jot it down on a notecard was this one: “But do you know that all the dark won’t stop the light from getting through?”

Things got really dark in March, didn’t they? COVID-19 darkened the world with so much brokenness: death, uncertainty, fear. It continues and, at times, seems unending. But the darkness isn’t felt on just a global level, the darkness hit our homes.

As a mom, you’ve seen the dark cloud over your house too, I know. The darkness looks like my eighth grader who may never walk into his middle school again. Parents of high school and college seniors are feeling this on another level that I can’t even imagine.

I saw the darkness again the day my second-grade son had his first Zoom meeting with his class. He was on top of the world as he and a dozen other eight-year-olds all spoke to each other at the same time. I instantly realized how much seeing his teacher and classmates daily meant to him. It felt dark when the only way my daughter could celebrate her good friend’s birthday was with a homemade sign and a drive-by greeting.

We’re leaving our houses for essentials only. We’re watching the death numbers rise. We use the term “social distancing” in daily conversation. We’re alerting our friends and family when we see basic necessities in the store. We’re cautious whenever we step outside our homes. We’re trying to remember that the grocery store aisles are “One-Way Only” now. We’re all attempting e-learning with our kids. Since we’re always home, we’re cooking for our families and cleaning our kitchens around the clock. Our bag chairs are collecting dust because we’re no longer spectators at our kids’ sporting events. We haven’t laid eyes on our church family in over a month.

Being in public feels different now: cold and sterile, and I don’t like not knowing if someone is smiling behind their mask or not. This is all so new and so odd and dark. Your family’s cloud may not look exactly like mine, but it is certain that our homes are feeling the darkness of this pandemic.

If you’re like me, some days all the newness feels manageable, but other days I feel defeated by it. Truth in a song lyric comes back to me though:

“But do you know that all the dark won’t stop the light from getting through?”

The darkness isn’t going to win. Rather, the darkness is making conditions ideal for the light to be seen.

It reminds me of the night sky. Our family bought a house out in Pelzer late last summer. I can look up in the evening and see stars now that I never viewed at my previous home near town. The sky is darker out here in the country, so the stars look brighter and are more visible. I can imagine explaining this to a child by telling them, “The darker the dark, the brighter the light.”

And that is true for our homes in April 2020 too. All of our crutches have been taken away. It’s dark. God is teaching us what is truly important, and it’s a lot less than what we deemed important six weeks ago. I’m learning what very little control I have –  in anything – and what great dependence I have on Him, for everything.

Rather than attempting to manage my kids’ lives to be free of pain, I’m learning that even these disappointments have been orchestrated by our Good Father for my child’s good and His glory. Our new, slow-paced life is making our times around the dinner table last longer and conversations deeper.

It’s dark, but the darkness is allowing us to see God clearly and in ways we haven’t before. Our distractions are gone; He has our attention. We have the time. He is still in control and is working His plan for the global community and for my little family of five. He specializes in shining light in darkness. We read how He did just that all throughout the Bible: Joseph, Esther, Daniel, Jesus’ own death and resurrection that conquers sin and gives me new life. All are stories of light shining in darkness, good coming from bad, His might and glory seen through the difficulties of a life.

Can we trust Him to do it again? Will He be able to bring good out of our current dark situation?

Isaiah 55:8-9 tells us:

“For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, declares the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.”

I like how one of our first grade Calvary Kids, Asher Burden, put it last week in his spelling assignment. Asher wrote,

“Who knows what He (God) is going to do next.”

None of us do. Nor could any of us have imagined what this spring held for us. But if we really think about it, we don’t need to know. We have a Father Who is not surprised by the events of 2020; we can trust Him. He has a plan and is able to bring good out of our current darkness.

Is He worthy of all blessings, honor and glory? He is. Is He worthy of my trust and dependence even when I don’t understand? He is.