June 03, 2020
Dear future me,
Today, I woke up to a world that was pulled to a stop.
People stopped living, loved ones stopped breathing.
I am isolated in a small box and do not have the freedom to go out. No freedom to walk around and explore the world. No freedom to meet people. No freedom to hug loved ones.
What is happening?
We wake up every day, peering through our windows and not seeing people. We wonder if maybe this is just a dream that we have to be awakened from.
The screen greets us with news of people dying and systems crashing, and there’s nothing I can do about it.
I am being drowned by fears of what may happen in the future. I worry about my family who are in different places. I sit in the corner of my tiny space and wonder, “When will this end?”
I don’t know what to do. Can I just press fast-forward? Can I not go through this? Can this not be a reality? Can I be spared from this? I don’t know. But one thing I know: This crisis is revealing who we are on the inside. It is revealing our anxious selves, our deepest longings, the unrest in our hearts.
I don’t know when this will stop. I don’t know how this will end. But this is the new norm.
But even when the world stopped, God never stopped moving. He never stopped providing. He never stopped speaking.
Despite the danger, countless people are serving. Despite the darkness around us, people are holding on to hope. Even in the most unsure moment of life, God is moving.
This pandemic reveals the deepest hurts of the present and the worries of tomorrow, but it helps us know what truly matters. It reminds us that out of this tragedy, God still speaks to us, even if it means making the world stop, that we may hear Him and know that He is true. He is the true hope. He is still in the business of making miracles. He is still uniting His people.
It helps us be grateful even in the little things, like waking up alive and seeing our loved ones breathe one more time. It helps us know that our isolation has a purpose—for us to see and know Him better.
I hear stories of people having time to reflect during the quarantine. I can’t help but imagine how this season turned our hopes up.
It helps us appreciate the beauty of seeing sunrise and sunsets. Through them, we realize that there is hope in each tomorrow for us to live and thrive.
One day, we will tell the future generation that these once happened in our lifetime. That we were given the privilege to cry yet fight, to worry yet hope, and to doubt yet continue to believe.
One day, we will tell our kids how the world united to help each other—to help the poor, feed the needy, heal the sick.
One day, we will be grateful that this crisis helped us hope again and believe that God is really God.
We may be excited to go back to our routines, but nothing compares to facing reality with the hope that comes from above.