Today is Resurrection Sunday. Nothing –not even the restrictions we are currently under that have been put into effect by our government leaders in response to the Corona virus – can separate us from God’s love or from our love for each other. He lives! is indeed the exclamation of our hearts today.

Just as I typed those words, there was a knock at the front door. Directly off the entry of our old but lovingly restored house is the front room. It has become our “India Room” – a sort of parlor/office decorated with furniture and accessories reminiscent of our beloved India in which God has given our family the privilege of ministering. This is my quiet space in which I write.

For the past two weeks, while I have been secluded at home, I have felt the need every morning to unlock the front door and open it wide to provide visual access to the outside through our full glass storm door. You could call it “letting the sunshine in” but it also somehow makes me feel more connected with the world. As the knocks became more persistent, I hurried to see who had come to call. 

What a lovely surprise! Two handsome young men who live next door and also happen to be my grandsons, Ira (age 7) and Kylo (age 4), both grinning from ear to ear, were holding up their completed Sunday school crafts. I teach the ten youngest grandkids every Sunday – truly a high point of my week. To meet current government guidelines, we met outside today, practicing social distancing. I sat on the front steps and the children clustered on blankets spread on the front lawn in individual family groups. We usually do a craft in class, but today I sent the materials home in a plain brown paper bag and asked the kids to show me their projects after they completed them. Starting with a plain piece of paper on which are printed three pictures to color – the empty cross, the empty tomb, and a silhouette of Jesus with the scripture, “I am the way, the truth and the life” – by cutting and folding a certain way, you end up with a pyramid that succinctly displays the most important event in history.

Of course, I squealed with delight as I peered through the glass, my heart rejoicing as Ira and Kylo proudly held up their works of art. And because I am Grammy, I could not resist asking, “Would you like a cookie?” Two little heads bobbed up and down, so I washed my hands and – with napkins – retrieved two freshly baked oatmeal cookies from the kitchen and gingerly handed them out the barely open storm door (sort of like drive-thru). I resisted the urge to grab and hug them…but I pray that soon I will be able to do that again. Yesterday, I was sitting on the front porch when Ira called to me from the driveway that separates our houses.

“Gram-gram!” he always gets my attention when he calls me by the nick-name he coined for me.

“Yes, Ira,” I replied.

“Mama told me that by the time it’s my birthday, this Corona thing will be gone.” 

“We are praying for that,” I answered, hopefully.

Ira’s birthday is in February.

Sigh…We are praying that God will grant knowledge and wisdom so a vaccine can be produced. We are praying that God will give knowledge and wisdom so our government leaders will make the right decisions, based on true facts, not theories and especially not politics. We are praying for health care workers that have been stretched beyond measure to provide care. We are praying for the sick and for the families of those who have lost loved ones. We are praying for the elderly in nursing homes who are not allowed visitors. We are praying that God will keep us all in His care.

That includes you. Being a caregiver is always challenging…even more so these days.

During the years I took care of my dad, we experienced the terror attacks in New York; Arlington County, Virginia, and Stoneycreek Township near Shanksville, Pennsylvania. Those were terrible times and many people’s lives were forever changed on September 11, 2001. I suppose we were all “changed,” but outside of those specific areas, most people did not experience the dramatic effects on every-day life that the response to this pandemic has brought our way.

I am reminded of the words of a gospel song written by J. B. Coats and recorded by a variety of vocalists through the years: “Where can I go but to the Lord?”  (See Psalm 25.)

The unerring answer to that rhetorical question is nowhere. Oh, that each one of us – and those in charge of rendering leadership during this time – would see that…and go to Him.