a resource for this time of COVID-19 social distancing
By the Rev. Cathy Gray
I’ve been taking extra long walks in our neighborhood this week - right along with several other locals, all of them feeling the pressures of being house-bound by a combination of Covid 19 and sloshing rain.
I miss people - family living outside my household, and friends. I miss the vibrancy of being in church - the unique energy that slides from silence to song and back again , seamlessly. I miss standing near someone whose life is fully unlike my own...but there we are, praying together in one voice - or in common silence. I miss stretching out my hands to receive that little taste of Bread - something so commonplace that it’s significance can be easily missed. I miss the passing of the Peace and I miss the exhortation to “Go into the world in peace” - reminding me that the nurture and courage we are granted in worship comes with a calling to take God into the world with us, to hold it all like a shiny penny or a new joy - a thing begging to be shared.
But, do you know what I don’t miss? I don’t miss God. I don’t miss God because, once we know what we’re seeking, God is impossible to miss. She sings through the tree branches, just beginning to bud, quivering lightly on a gust of wind. She conducts the chorus of birds - singing robins and cardinals and sparrows and hawks - into a delightful harmony (or, to an ear more sharply tuned than mine, maybe into a delightful mis-harmony!). The tweets and the twitters and the chirps, the squealing announcement of prey spotted, the flutter of wings and the sudden surprise of an expansive swoop - all those things remind me that all is well in the world - even in this time when, clearly, not all in the world is well.
I love the feeling of solid ground under my feet; I love the feeling cool, damp air on my face. I love the morning sun and the blue of the morning sky, and the sweep of gray clouds, portending an afternoon rain. I love the greetings of neighbors (at a six-foot distance) who, like myself, would rather live outside the walls and breathe the air come fresh from heaven.
So, I don’t miss God. God’s wind-breath of creation, Ruach, surrounds me, swirls through me, lifts me up. It’s pretty much impossible to miss this God who refuses to leave us, this God whose delight in us is boundless, and whose love for us is endless.
Be well, dear people, and, please, don’t let yourself miss God!