Sacred Connections: "Are we there yet?"
Are you feeling a bit betwixt and between? I am. We know our experiences of the past year – whatever they have been for each of us. And we know we’re in a bit of a different place now than we’ve been at critical points along the way. We know what false hope looked like. We know what shortages and surges felt like. We would probably want to avoid a return to those places again. We’ve learned how to adapt our lives in previously unimaginable ways. And we know there’s progress every day in terms of vaccine availability and the numbers of people receiving their shots. So why doesn’t it feel notably easier right now?
I remember as a young child traveling alone in the back seat of the car, asking the eternal questions, “How much further?” “How long until we get there?” “Are we there yet?” I also particularly recall my father’s impatient response. “You just asked that question minutes ago. Do not ask again!” In fairness to him, it was a very long road trip and I believe the very question had become a mantra to me. As aggravating as it was for Dad, I see it now as my expression of hope that we would get “there”, and hopefully soon.
Many of us have been asking “How long until we get there?” “Are we there yet?” when we think of the patterns of our lives we deeply miss and would like to resume in some way. Having received my vaccinations now, I was beginning to think about a visit to my granddaughter who I haven’t seen in person for over a year. Just as the thought was occurring of a possible flight to Utah for her birthday, she tells me she is back home in quarantine.
Four of my granddaughter’s classmates, including one who sits next to her, have been diagnosed with COVID-19. This is her third quarantine, and she is resilient as are her parents. Her test ended up negative again, and her classmates are all on the mend. But the experience reminds me that I’m personally not there yet – not feeling the conditions are what I would like them to be to resume that part of my life. Hopefully soon. Each of us continues to have to make choices, and there can be quite a tug of war between our hearts and our minds.
At church we are continually asking “Are we there yet?” when it comes to Hamilton County’s risk level turning orange. While our case numbers have greatly improved, we keep finding ourselves not there yet – not at the color of risk level when we might gather in our church building again. Some of us are so ready to be there. Some of us are not sure when we’ll be ready. But we continue to trust in the science to keep our community as safe as we can.
Recently I made a visit to offer prayers at the time of a beloved one’s death. It is a time of holding great gratitude for the loved one’s life and love, while also feeling deep grief at the loss of their physical presence in our lives. This time is a poignant reminder of the words we shared just weeks ago on Ash Wednesday, “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.”
Leaving their home and returning to my own, I took a brief walk in the rain, in the dark. A large, cold raindrop landed on my hand as a wake-up call, bringing me to that present moment, another reminder of the miracle of life. Miracles surround us in every moment. The miracles of all creation, of our lives now, of rain, sensation, love, our journeys together. Perhaps “there” isn’t a distinct destination, a place or time. “Are we there yet?” Perhaps we are.
