It's been 19 weeks and counting since the 2020 pandemic began. I could mark the beginning in any number of ways.
My first indication that this was a serious threat was when the big five NCAA collegiate basketball conferences began cancelling their tournaments, when they ushered players off the court mid-game, and sent teams back home. What should have been the start of March madness was an indicator that our world was shifting in remarkable ways, an indicator of a different kind of March madness to come. This was not business as usual, and for teams to walk away from revenue and tournaments and potential championships seemed to yell in a loud voice to get our attention. Something ominous was looming.
It was also spring break on our campus. And each day, as we went into the office, we heard more stories of colleges and universities shutting down. It seemed unfathomable. And yet, as we heard reports of the virus and potential spread, a new dread surfaced in us as we talked about what it meant to invite college students back on campus from all over the country and the world. Each day, more news would come. Each day more schools made the tough decision to extend spring break, to buy time, to consider all options. None of us knew what it meant to have an online semester. None of us knew what it meant to do the work of educating students remotely. It was a call into an unknown like any other, a call to abandon tradition without abandoning our mission, a call to find new ways of doing work, of educating, of supporting our students.
My husband was travelling for work. I could also mark the beginning of the pandemic by that work trip. He was in New Jersey for a training class, in many ways nondescript, as he often travels for work. I had no specific fears or anxieties about sending him away. It was normal by now, and as usual, we would count down the days until he returned home. By about mid-week, though, we started to hear that airlines were beginning to cancel flights. People were being encouraged not to travel and to stay home. Yet, he was many states away from home. I became anxious about him not being able to get home and also anxious about him getting on a plane to travel. It was in many ways, a first sign that in this pandemic there would often be no easy options, only hard decisions at every turn. Now, it was touching my intimate life - an early indicator that there would be no way to escape the effects of the virus; none of us would be left unscathed or unimpacted.
There are more moments like these, early signs that this season would be unlike any other. Signs that marked the beginning of new season for all of us, a season that has been deeply unsettling, rocking many of us out of our sense of security, complacency, and normalcy.
As the weeks went on and the economy shut down, as the virus spread, and the impacts rippled throughout the globe, our collective lives changed. Our lives changed. My life changed.
Over this series of reflections, I hope to share some of that journey with you. Perhaps it is not a coincidence that one of my life verses is 1 Peter 5:10.
"After you have suffered for a little while, may the God of all grace who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you."
1 Peter 5:10, ESV
Good words for an unsettling season, words that have reminded me that God is at work, even in the midst of a pandemic. And He is working to restore us and settle us in Him. That has been true in my life. In the midst of this season, God has been faithful and true, and He has been working for our good and His glory. Let me tell you my story...
Black Wall Street: From Riot to Renaissance in Tulsa's Historic Greenwood District by Hannibal B. Johnson
