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I am struck by how eerie our town’s main street has become. I still anticipate cars cruising past and the aroma of fine food and coffee, even though shops have been shuttered for weeks. I miss stopping at the local bookstore and seeing people smiling over meals. The bustling life is now confined to individual homes, where anxiety is stifling and loneliness rampant. Emotions flux with the reported cases, the new deaths; possible hopes of new medications or plasma of recovered patients; but followed by the lack of ventilators and other supplies. The media strives to highlight chaos and concern, to provide the greatest shock, to draw the most attention, to sell their product of daily novelty.

In his book, Disruptive Witness, Alan Noble writes:

“…death comes for us all, and all around us we see its work in decay, violence, evil, sickness, and suffering. The weight of this cross pressure is too much for most of us to bear, so we have outsourced the burden of death to specialists: doctors, nurses, paramedics, law enforcement, fire departments, soldiers, and the like. We obsessively fight death, we push the sick and elderly to the margins of society, we quarantine the dying, we turn our fear of death into a quasicosmic war against global suffering.”

Not only is our distracted busyness failing to deny the reality of death, but healthcare workers – no stranger to death – confront the fact they are not impervious to illness themselves. And for many, we have no place to outsource the burden. 

In contradiction to expectations for modern medicine, local and national leaders are foregoing current policies and creating new ones – not out of proven outcomes but to ration of a lack of supplies. It takes me back to my experiences in clinics set up in third-world countries. All supplies are donated, resources limited and creativity – to address needs with available supplies – a necessity. 

Caring for patients with infectious, life-threatening conditions is not a new requirement for healthcare workers. We enter rooms without a second thought because evidence has shown that following the correct personal protective equipment (PPE) will protect us from contracting a disease. But now the reality is that our allowance of PPE is inadequate. These changes make bedside staff vulnerable to patient’s wounds of resistant bacteria, flu, and the plethora of other respiratory viruses. 

These changes also add concern for other patients who do not require contact precautions. There is a weight wondering if bedside staff are now a vector for infection to the immunocompromised. Suddenly a sneeze or a slight post nasal drip is a symptom of grave concern. Is this allergies or a seasonal cold? Or am I a carrier of a virus that might threaten the life I am assigned to steward? 

The work of task forces and clinical engineering is continuous; the questions are weighty and the lack of knowledge looms; the disruption to routine has triggered fear, anxiety, frustration, and sadness. But these throbbing emotions have opened my eyes to an unquestionable realization – these feelings are a result of misplaced hope. 

This virus has simply unveiled hopes that are vulnerable to storms.  

COVID-19 has exposed the hope I have put in my country. In our response, we face a man-made problem of little PPE due to hoarders, budget choices, and a reliance on global trade. Even the most developed and progressive nations cannot provide us with the security and protection we desire. This hope is a sandcastle. 

COVID-19 has exposed the hope I put in knowledge. Hospitals are, by nature, chaotic, but controlled by evidence-based practice and set protocols to ensure the best outcomes. But with the introduction of something unexpected, the threat of limited equipment and too little staff, we see how control was a mere delusion. Our knowledge is not omniscient and our plans are not infallible – hope in these alone is a sandcastle. 

We see the stark limitations of human intellect and infrastructure; we see its failure. But friends, Christ has not failed us. The world spins in its chaos, but – in all of his love and power – God sees us. He sees the corruption, suffering and sickness and he does not leave us alone. 

Our God today was king during the bubonic plague, Spanish influenza, and ebola outbreak. He sees the AIDs problem and Zika epidemic. He sees persons plagued by failing organs and festering wounds. His heart is broken by the earth’s state and he actively intervenes. Jesus came to satisfy justice – to pay the penalty for sin. 

“For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life. For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.”

John 3:16-17

He asks that we believe, trust, and follow him, that we love him above our comfort and our plans, that we cast our anxieties on him and know that he is sovereign. We are to trust God, whose character is perfect, who is unchanging and who is good. He does not mean for us to carry the weight of this world or outsource it to someone else. We are called to rest in his arms, to cast our anxieties on him, and to press on with his strength. 

The sufferings we are experiencing are momentary. God promises that he will restore creation to his perfect design and includes us in the process of redemption. We are not meant to simply survive or endure life. He gives our suffering meaning and our work lasting value. 

The world is put on hold, but this should never prevent but rather propel us to what God calls us to – share the good news of his salvation.  Our lives can be a witness of the assurance we have in both life and in death because of Jesus. 

“By this we know love, that he laid down his life for us, and we ought to lay down our lives for the brothers. But if anyone has the world’s goods and sees his brother in need, yet closes his heart against him, how does God’s love abide in him? Little children, let us not love in word or talk but in deed and in truth.”

1 John 3:16-18

We demonstrate his peace by how we care for our neighbors, love our children, and serve others in our workplaces. We are called to act on his certain promises. 

God does not promise me my health; he promises me something greater. And I must go where he calls. I can enter a COVID-19 room with inadequate PPE and be the hands and feet of Christ to a loved creation of God. I can touch and comfort patients when their family members cannot. I can trust my life to God on this momentary blip because he has promised me forever. 

God does not promise me my health; he promises me something greater.

In a time where coworkers and neighbors are uneasy, I can work in such a way that holds nothing back because God has held nothing back from me. 

God is giving me peace as I press into his word. He is blessing me with friends who remind me to pray as I enter each patient’s room and perform each task. My nerves are calmed because I know that I am not in control and never was; someone who is much wiser, more powerful, and exponentially more loving is reigning today and will tomorrow. 

Friends, we entrust the reality of death and illness to a God who has already had victory over it. I pray that we will press on to how he is calling each of us with his strength. We do not have the answers, and we don’t need to if our faith is not in sandcastles but rather on the rock Himself.