We each have a life story, penned without ink, read by the people around us. Who's writing your story?

Tuesday, June 9, 2020

Perspective in the Pandemic

The words jumped off the page! 

At any other time, I probably would've skimmed right over them, but during the Covid-19 culture they became the very essence of hope.




Perhaps I should back up a bit. Careful to follow the protocols handed down by governors and health advisors alike, I found myself with a scratchy throat and a hoarse voice. I lined up my usual beat-the-bug potions on the counter, fully expecting to be fine after a day or two. Just to be sure I took my temperature. Days turned into weeks with symptoms coming and going (none of which were on the C-19 list, I might add). Finally, I made an appointment, which turned into several more. I think we're finally almost to the end of this road.

All that to say this: Between the ever-darkening newscasts and my own fear of somehow infecting my 84-year-old dad, I felt anxious . . . really anxious . . . and even guilty. What was wrong with me? Why didn't God intervene? I couldn't bear it if I gave something to my father. And what if this was something serious? 

My usual take-what-comes manner flew right out the window, and fear and frustration began to take root in my heart. And that's when I read these words:
"And no inhabitant will say, 'I am sick';
the people who dwell there will be forgiven their iniquity" (Isaiah 33:24).
Can you imagine a day when not one person will say "I am sick"? Isaiah wrote about judgment and captivity to a nation who forsook God's ways, but he also penned poetry about God's promise to bring about the messianic kingdom, a kingdom the redeemed will one day enjoy.


Even in the the midst of a worldwide pandemic, herein lies our hope. Sickness will be banished. Sin will be forgiven. And the LORD will be our judge, lawgiver, and king. He will save us (33:22).
"Say to those who have an anxious heart,
Be strong; fear not! Behold, your God . . ." (35:4).

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