There aren’t great words in the midst of a pandemic.
Sometimes you want magical words to fix things.
To provide certainty in the midst of absolute uncertainty.
To assure you that there will be enough jobs, enough money, enough time to figure out the next steps. That there will be full healing and restoration. That life will go back to how it used to be.
These are imagined promises that might never be fulfilled. Perhaps they’re never meant to be. We get to figure out the reality of being okay in a new world. A post-pandemic world. If we even make it that far.
This weekend, Kel and I joined the 22 million people who have filed for unemployment in the past month. The last 144 hours of our lives have been filled with grief, pain, anticipation, hope, gratitude, and a million other things in between. Our last day of work was Friday. I sent the following email to our staff and, rather than try to recreate it, I feel like it continues to sum up the cry of our hearts right now. So… here you go.
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I was putting Baby K (our foster baby of almost 8 months) to bed the other night, processing through the weeks’ events. Through the tears, I looked into the bright blue eyes of this miraculous gift and found myself choking out the words of the catechisms we sing to her often.
How and why did God create us?
There was a purpose statement in the question that seemed meant for me in the moment. Debbie- why were you created?
My heart ran through the list of possible answers:
To be heard?
To be known?
To be valued?
To be right?
To be wanted?
To work at camp?
To be a wife? A mom?
To be healthy? Safe?
To live in the mountains?
To be comfortable?
Quickly, the catechism responded:
God created us male and female in his own image to know him, love him, live with him, and glorify him. And it is right that we who were created by God should live to his glory.
Too easily I forget the purpose for which I was created.
In a broken world, with a broken heart, and the uncertainty of what will unfold next… we tend to think we were created for something other than which we were.
The false narrative causes us to worry, to fear, to believe lies about our worth and our value. It causes us to think that this is all that matters. This present circumstance before us– it’s all-consuming. Our normals have been wrecked by a pandemic, causing us to lose jobs, communities, neighbors, camp, a way of life… causing us to worry about our health, our families, our finances, our futures…
But here we can remember the purpose for which we were created.
To know Him.
To love Him.
To live with Him.
To glorify Him.
Through anything, in anything… because of who God is and what He has done. Immanuel… God with us.
I don’t know what category you stand in today… worried, broken-hearted, angry, confused, lonely, wanting to run, scared, wishing away our realities, relieved…
But I do know one thing.
We are people created with purpose.
Don’t forget that.
Even in the hardest, most unimaginable circumstances…. even when our April, normally brimming with campers and the crazy anticipation of summer staff arriving, is now filled with good-byes and unknowns and closed gates…
Our purpose remains the same.
How and why did God create us?
To glorify Him.
In all things. All seasons. All circumstances. No.matter.what.
Let us declare it and live it loudly, courageously, and with steadfastness– even if it’s through tears and brokenness, even if we have to beg the Lord for the strength to do so. There is a beautiful simplicity about our purpose that surpasses our circumstances, that surpasses all time… and reminds us that we serve the King in whom there is victory over death, sin, and pain– the King who is making all things new.
Not to us, but to God be all glory and honor and praise.
“Worthy are you, our Lord and God,
to receive glory and honor and power,
for you created all things,
and by your will they existed and were created.”
– Revelation 4:11–
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And He is so worthy. My little human mind can’t even begin to really comprehend it. But I am humbled that He calls me daughter. Relieved that He takes care of His children.
We don’t know what is next.
And that’s okay. At least today.
More musings will come, as we will have ample time to process, to reflect, and to share.
For a little while, we will remain in New Mexico as we figure out the adoption process with Baby K. And for the foreseeable future, we will wait. We will pray. We will trust. And we will seek to glorify the Lord however we can, in the midst of something only the Lord knew was coming.
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I was putting Baby K (our foster baby of almost 8 months) to bed the other night, processing through the weeks’ events. Through the tears, I looked into the bright blue eyes of this miraculous gift and found myself choking out the words of the catechisms we sing to her often.