October 14 Post
“O God, be not far from me; O my God, make haste to help me!” -- Psalm 71:12
Lately I’ve overheard a common refrain around town. “I’m so over this!” What they mean when asked, is that they hate wearing a mask, or they want to be able to hug people, or they chafe against being grounded at home when they want to travel to family or go out and experience the world. National Geographic specials on Netflix aren’t cutting it anymore.
Our common bond right now is that we are so over this together. We share differing versions of the same weary story, as we long for a future we cannot yet see. In truth, we’ve all lived through private sufferings that we were so over, long before whatever we had to bear, ended.
My own childhood was shaped by the severe allergies of my only sibling. As my brother was often sick, I felt my mother’s worry before I was old enough to understand her alarm. Long before any of us were over it, we experienced the consequences of no household pets with fur, no peanut butter in the house, lonely holidays when my brother was in the hospital, and vacations cut short when he became ill just as we reached our destination.
While we’ve focused on COVID 19, an undercurrent of sorrow continues to mount over all manner of things that we, or someone in our wider community is so over. We’re so over this illness, whatever it may be. We’re so over political chaos. We’re so over mean people insisting on their own way. We’re so over racial unrest and it’s myriad causes. We’re so over take-out food when what we really want is to share it with friends. We’re so over not being able to discern who’s telling the truth and who’s not, and trying to figure out how to be useful through this mess.
We’re caught in a riptide that sometimes seems as if it is pulling us further and further from some familiar shore. Until this whatever is truly over, we need a better strategy than terror or despair. Instead on trying to turn around and battle our way back to where we’ve been, maybe we need to pivot and start swimming parallel to shore. Keep swimming until we reach calmer waters, pausing to rest there. Then take a turn towards a new place we’ve never been before.
If you’re so over it, I get it. I’m so over it too.
Prayer: “How long O Lord?”, our weary soul cries out like those who wrote the Psalms so long ago. Yet even as we are so over this chaotic, discouraging time, forever may we trust in you. Amen
God’s grace, mercy and peace,
Dr. Anna V. Copeland
Community Church of Vero Beach