Years ago I had a blog called Poet’s Prose. I just wrote. I didn’t try to make sense of it. I often found that after I wrote the words I’d placed on the screen were quite cathartic and I found what was hiding inside that I wasn’t able to see. I sense my heart in need of that kind of writing again.

Sunday2Monday it use to be so simple.

Listening to the sermons on Sunday and writing about it on Monday.

Church was all so simple then. Face to face.

We’d pass each other in close proximity.

Hugging… handshaking….eye to eye….smile to smile….

That’s all so distant now.

I haven’t left my house in days.

I remember a month ago I asked the question, “Does anyone know someone personally who has covid-19?”

The question revealing my skeptical nature. With each week passing…..creeping…..this virus makes it’s way across the world.

I miss my friends and everyone is in its path….and it keeps creeping forth.

The buzz word is Social Distancing…like its a good thing.

I remember the days before Christ where my heart was so removed that I didn’t feel toward or for people. I didn’t care to be around people. Now I cant help crying over it all. Missing church, family, and friends, as a cling desperately to Jesus.

Some days I’ve resolved, “If I die, it is gain. I will be with Jesus.” but what I can’t resolve is the nagging darkness of losing loved ones. I’m still wrestling with… can I trust God with other people? He’s got me….but what about you?

My thoughts mill about with fretting thoughts like, “How can I trust when I can’t know how well another is caring for their self?” I want to wrap it up with a nice little bow. Make it have a perfect answer. I want to say, “Yes, Yes I trust.” But then I’d just be lying.

Everyday it is a battle. It’s like a hyper-vigilant nightmare.

I anchor my heart and then circumstances rip the truth clean from my hands.

The spiderweb of connections between people. The enemy has figured out how to ruin connection, use it to drive us apart, and make hands that touch and mouths that cough the enemy.

People in public don’t even look at each other. Get in and get out! Get back to safety.

And even there it’s not safe. Everything you touch outside is a potential sick bomb for inside. The house smells like Clorox and Lysol. While I love things to be clean. My hands hurt from washing and my throat is slightly stung by the aftermath. Its a bit like a backward nuke. Instead of complete destruction. Its death by clean perfection.

Every morning I re-anchor my heart to my God.

The psalms are full of so much reality right now.

Bible stories come to my mind….

The Israelite’s that put the blood of the lamb on the doorposts and death passes by…

I am reminded that Jesus’s blood is applied to the door of my heart.

I think of …

The centurion asks Jesus to heal his servant saying, “For I too am a man set under authority, with soldiers under me: and I say to one, ‘Go,’ and he goes; and to another, ‘Come,’ and he comes; and to my servant, ‘Do this,’ and he does it.” ⁹ When Jesus heard these things, he marveled at him, and turning to the crowd that followed him, said, “I tell you, not even in Israel have I found such faith.” ¹⁰ And when those who had been sent returned to the house, they found the servant well.” (Luke 7:1-10)

I want to have faith like that. To believe like that….

Jesus come and fill us/me with faith to believe. Help our/my unbelief.

I am praying for my family, my friends, my church, my city, my state, my nation!

Thanks for listening,

Starla