As I reflect on what I've learned and realized in the last 15 month, since the pandemic basically shut down Guatemala, and placed limits on my freedom, I have needed to confess, as well as celebrate, many things.
First, I realized how attached I am to the things of this world. My freedom to move about freely, to buy what I want as well as need, to be independent and live as I want. I like my life my way--and was hit smack in the face with the challenge to be content in all things--even lock-down and wearing masks. I confess I discovered just how much I am of this world, not just in it, and needed to (and continue to need to) repent.
I realized how attached I was to my activities, maybe even more than to the people in my life. I was forced to trust God to keep my children and grandchildren safe, though they were far away and my mother's heart immediately wanted to go to them--as if I could do something to protect them. I learned my own helplessness and struggled with resentment.
I was forced to see God's hand in this pandemic, even if it didn't fit in with my image of who God was supposed to be. I don't believe He caused it, though He certainly permitted it. I have seen how God has used this time of isolation to build my relationship with Him, making me less dependent on the somewhat artificial community of "church" and more dependent on the true community of the world-wide family of believers. In the last year and 3 months I have called and Zoomed with more family (biological and spiritual) than I had in the last 10 years I lived in Guatemala. I was forced to be responsible for my participation in community and not rely on an institution to provide it.
Did I miss gathering with other believers for worship? Absolutely. But when participating in the services of my home church here began to feel burdensome (it's much harder to pay attention when a service is in two languages, and the repetition leads to distraction--somehow it's different in person), I connected with churches I knew across the US. I have come to love and appreciate that we are the universal Body of Christ as well as local gatherings.
I have been challenged to do everything without grumbling: when I had to plan my outings because we could only drive every other day and not all on Sunday, When I have to wear a mask even though no one is within 100 yards of me (yes, in Guatemala masks are still required). When my temperature is still taken every time I enter a store or public building, and my hands are chapped from hand sanitizer. I am learning to count it all as joy, because I am alive.
In October I unknowingly contracted the virus, only finding out when I went to get test to return to Guatemala after a short visit to renew my visa after the airport here opened once again. My short trip turned into two weeks in an extended stay hotel in Houston. I was advised by a doctor friend in Houston on the best protocol of care, supplies were provided for me by by good friend Judy, and I learned that Walmart delivers. In all I never suffered, only losing my sense of smell and having mild headaches for a few days. This was shortly after two of my friends, much younger and in better health than I, had died from the virus.
This could have turned out so much differently. While it took me a while to recover my normal energy level (you don't realize this when cooped up in a hotel room), I suffer no long lasting effects. That, too, is a miracle to me, since just yesterday I hugged a fellow missionary (again much younger and fitter than I) who is still periodically requiring oxygen, though he had Covid last August.
So I have learned much about God's provision, not only for my health and strength but for our ministry. At a time when many ministries and nonprofits were closing (at least temporarily) God provided generously for us through you, His people. We not only were able to continue our ministry full-force, but were able to extend ourselves to providing food for the elderly in San Pedro, the community where we are located. I watched as God created ministry for the residents of Casa de Esperanza when I had failed to figure out how to do so. I watched as our staff unselfishly worked a week at a time to limit the coming and going of outsiders to our homes. We were cared for in more ways than I ever could have anticipated.
I guess to sum it up, during Covid-19, I have gained insight into just how big God is, and how small I am.
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