The movie Justice League was on last night and I found this ending quote particularly relevant for today's times:
"Darkness, the truest darkness, is not the absence of light. It is the conviction that the light will never return. But the light always returns, to show us things familiar. Home, family, and things entirely new, or long overlooked. It shows us new possibilities and challenges us to pursue them. This time, the light shone on the heroes, coming out of the shadows to tell us we won’t be alone again. Our darkness was deep and seemed to swallow all hope. But these heroes were here the whole time, to remind us that hope is real, that you can see it. All you have to do is look, up in the sky."
Today I nearly bawled at the season finale of The Good Doctor, tried to clean up my office but only succeeded in making it look worse, and have dealt with reading posts over and over on social media complaining that “we’re losing our freedoms!”
At least two pastors that I can think of in the US held services on Sunday in deliberate defiance of an order prohibiting large gatherings. They seem to think that this is a situation where “we must obey God rather than man!”
I’m sorry, but I think that is absolute hogwash. I got into a discussion with someone online about this very subject today, and earlier, when I had pointed out to someone else that people weren’t self-quaranting like they should, the answer I got was, for free people, that’s their choice.
So it’s their choice to possibly put themselves and others at risk?
It’s perfectly okay, in the name of “not losing our freedoms” to go out and mingle with people who could have this virus and not know it?
It’s perfectly okay to run the risk of getting sick, and even worse, to run the risk of making others sick, possibly members of your own family?
This is the hill you’re going to die on, the fear of losing your freedom to worship in a church building on Sundays?
If the government had forbidden any sort of worship gathering, then I would have reason to worry. But online, virtual gatherings are not against the law. They are not.
I want to sit here, and I want to cry, I want to scream at the absolute, total stupidity of people who are perfectly willing to put their own selfish desires over a known public health risk.
And those of you that tell me that it’s no worse than the flu and that we never freaked out like this when the flu hit, or swine flu hit, or bird flu hit, this is a novel virus. It is a new virus, one we do not have experience with, one we do not have a vaccine for, and one that especially elderly and chronically ill people can become seriously ill from, if not die from.
There are medical workers on the front lines. There are not enough masks, gowns, or other PPE for them. There are not enough ventilators to help people breathe. Doctors in Italy have had to make the choice of who lives and who dies. Doctors have probably already made those choices here in the US.
There are other essential workers out there, daily, putting their lives on the line so that we can have food to eat and stuff to drink, so that babies can get formula and diapers, and yes, so that we can get that precious commodity known as toilet paper.
Are you so willing to put your selfish desire to go where you want, with whom you want, and when you want that you are willing to put yourself and other people at risk?
If so, I hope you think it’s worth the price if you get ill and have to be put in the hospital on a ventilator.
Okay, let’s all take a deep breath:
It’s the end of the world as we know it
It’s the end of the world as we know it
It’s the end of the world as we know it
And I feel fine!
Just my .04, adjusted for inflation.
Statcounter
Tuesday, March 31, 2020
Tina's TEOTWAWKI Journal, Day 18
I glanced over yesterday's entry, and realized that I never explained about my small group and the Roosevelts.
We used Zoom yesterday evening to meet with the other people in our small group. It took a little while to get everything working, but we had a nice conversation once it did, and we also had a short prayer together. It was good to "see" them but it is nothing like a face-to-face conversation. The two other women in the chat can't really go out very much. One is a long-term cancer survivor and the other just finished radiation for cancer. They are considered high-risk. So their husbands are taking good care of them.
Now, the Roosevelts . . . PBS is offering a few of the Ken Burns films for free through their app. So yesterday, I started watching his series on the Roosevelts. Part of me admires Teddy's spirit and FDR's concern for the common man . . . and part of me is ticked off at the way Teddy handled his daughter Alice and how FDR cheated on his wife.
Ken Burns has an interesting way of handling history, which is why I enjoy his films. I have seen the Roosevelt series before but am looking forward to seeing it again.
In the meantime, even though we are under a "stay at home" order, I do have to venture out to take my son to an already scheduled appointment.
(Finished on March 31st). The appointment went well. One of the eerie things I saw while we were out was the overhead signs on the interstate saying "Coronavirus, keep elderly and chronically ill isolated." The last time I saw something that eerie on our overhead signs was 9/11, when I saw "National emergency, airport closed".
Okay, time to do this day's post one day late. All together now:
It's the end of the world as we know it
It's the end of the world as we know it
It's the end of the world as we know it
And I feel fine!
Just my .04, adjusted for inflation.
We used Zoom yesterday evening to meet with the other people in our small group. It took a little while to get everything working, but we had a nice conversation once it did, and we also had a short prayer together. It was good to "see" them but it is nothing like a face-to-face conversation. The two other women in the chat can't really go out very much. One is a long-term cancer survivor and the other just finished radiation for cancer. They are considered high-risk. So their husbands are taking good care of them.
Now, the Roosevelts . . . PBS is offering a few of the Ken Burns films for free through their app. So yesterday, I started watching his series on the Roosevelts. Part of me admires Teddy's spirit and FDR's concern for the common man . . . and part of me is ticked off at the way Teddy handled his daughter Alice and how FDR cheated on his wife.
Ken Burns has an interesting way of handling history, which is why I enjoy his films. I have seen the Roosevelt series before but am looking forward to seeing it again.
In the meantime, even though we are under a "stay at home" order, I do have to venture out to take my son to an already scheduled appointment.
(Finished on March 31st). The appointment went well. One of the eerie things I saw while we were out was the overhead signs on the interstate saying "Coronavirus, keep elderly and chronically ill isolated." The last time I saw something that eerie on our overhead signs was 9/11, when I saw "National emergency, airport closed".
Okay, time to do this day's post one day late. All together now:
It's the end of the world as we know it
It's the end of the world as we know it
It's the end of the world as we know it
And I feel fine!
Just my .04, adjusted for inflation.
Sunday, March 29, 2020
Tina's TEOTWAWKI Journal, Day 17
I have spent today first in a virtual church lobby, then virtually with my evening small group, and in between with the Roosevelts.
This morning, I logged on early because I didn't want to log on right at the start of service and then have a problem with getting in. I was glad I did. We had a "virtual church lobby" where we traded messages back and forth. Matthew set up his own account with his email address and it was fun to see his comments in the lobby. He wanted to know when they would start cleaning up after communion again. One of the people who works with him said that he should stay in shape by doing the dishes. :-)
Don, in the sermon, talked about the time he went to racing school. I remember that time. It was a 40th birthday present from his wife. When he went there and was learning how to drive the cars, he was concentrating mostly on not hitting the wall. At lunchtime, he observed, zooming out of the garage and taking to the track, John Andretti, a member of the famous Andretti racing family.
Later, Don got to talk with John Andretti and asked him, when you enter turn one, what are you looking at?
John's answer: "I'm looking for the exit out of turn two."
Huh?
He explained, "At that speed (around 200 mph), if I was only looking at what was in front of me, I would hit the wall."
Don said, this stuck with him as a metaphor for life. What are we looking at that's in front of us that may cause us to "hit a wall", rather than realizing that there's going to be an exit to that experience?
He reminded us of the story of the exiles in Babylon that Jeremiah wrote to in chapter 29. So many of us have seen Jeremiah 29:11 on plaques, on Facebook memes; some of us may have claimed it as a "life verse". It's the famous, "For I know the plans I have for you, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."
That's the "exit out of turn two" that we're looking towards, the hope and the future.
But right now, we're in the "turn one", in this event called the coronavirus pandemic that has uprooted and upended us.
When the kingdom of Judah was carried off to Babylon, Jeremiah the prophet wrote to them. He told them that yes, guys, you're in the "turn one" of this journey. So here's what you need to do while you're in this turn one: Build houses, plant gardens and harvest them. Get married and have kids, and have them get married so they can have kids. Work for the peace and prosperity of the city you're in, because its welfare will determine your welfare. (I am reading the New Living Translation as I am writing this.) They were going to be there for 70 years before they'd go back home to Judah.
As Jeremiah was writing his letter, there were false prophets telling them that this isn't going to last that long, you'll be back home soon. Jeremiah's answer: Nope, not the case. Your "turn one" is going to last a while, and you need to be thinking about what you're going to do while you're in that "turn one." Eventually, you'll make it through your "turn two"; God did promise "you will find me when you seek me," and that he would restore their fortunes.
So how are we supposed to handle our "turn one" while looking towards the exit from "turn two"? What are we supposed to get out of our experience of being in lockdown, in quarantine, in this abnormal where we are confronted with empty shelves that should be full of toilet paper, of fresh meat and vegetables, of fresh produce?
The main thing? Be humble, and seek God with all our hearts.
I would love to get out of this "turn one" now, or in the next week or next month. I want to go to the store and not worry about, can I get bread, or meat? Or toilet paper? I dislike being bored and stir-crazy. And sometimes I would just rather whine and wallow in how hard my life has been.
But this virus will come to an end. The turn two will happen. The death rate will drop to the point where we can safely, again, shake hands, hug, get closer than six feet, visit a church, go shopping, and not be afraid.
What are we going to take out of this "turn one" experience when we exit from "turn two?"
Right now, I don't know yet. Perhaps I will have more of an appreciation for gatherings, for seeing people face to face. Perhaps I will know not to take for granted whether or not my local store has what I need or what I want.
Maybe, just maybe, now is the time to put my helmet on, hop in the driver's seat, fire up the engine, and take off down the straightaway . . . and when I twist that wheel and go into turn one, lock my eyes onto that "turn two" exit. Because I want to come out of that "turn two" better than I was when I went into "turn one"
In the meantime, let's crank up the stereo and sing it loud:
It's the end of the world as we know it
It's the end of the world as we know it
It's the end of the world as we know it
And I feel fine!
Just my .04, adjusted for inflation.
This morning, I logged on early because I didn't want to log on right at the start of service and then have a problem with getting in. I was glad I did. We had a "virtual church lobby" where we traded messages back and forth. Matthew set up his own account with his email address and it was fun to see his comments in the lobby. He wanted to know when they would start cleaning up after communion again. One of the people who works with him said that he should stay in shape by doing the dishes. :-)
Don, in the sermon, talked about the time he went to racing school. I remember that time. It was a 40th birthday present from his wife. When he went there and was learning how to drive the cars, he was concentrating mostly on not hitting the wall. At lunchtime, he observed, zooming out of the garage and taking to the track, John Andretti, a member of the famous Andretti racing family.
Later, Don got to talk with John Andretti and asked him, when you enter turn one, what are you looking at?
John's answer: "I'm looking for the exit out of turn two."
Huh?
He explained, "At that speed (around 200 mph), if I was only looking at what was in front of me, I would hit the wall."
Don said, this stuck with him as a metaphor for life. What are we looking at that's in front of us that may cause us to "hit a wall", rather than realizing that there's going to be an exit to that experience?
He reminded us of the story of the exiles in Babylon that Jeremiah wrote to in chapter 29. So many of us have seen Jeremiah 29:11 on plaques, on Facebook memes; some of us may have claimed it as a "life verse". It's the famous, "For I know the plans I have for you, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."
That's the "exit out of turn two" that we're looking towards, the hope and the future.
But right now, we're in the "turn one", in this event called the coronavirus pandemic that has uprooted and upended us.
When the kingdom of Judah was carried off to Babylon, Jeremiah the prophet wrote to them. He told them that yes, guys, you're in the "turn one" of this journey. So here's what you need to do while you're in this turn one: Build houses, plant gardens and harvest them. Get married and have kids, and have them get married so they can have kids. Work for the peace and prosperity of the city you're in, because its welfare will determine your welfare. (I am reading the New Living Translation as I am writing this.) They were going to be there for 70 years before they'd go back home to Judah.
As Jeremiah was writing his letter, there were false prophets telling them that this isn't going to last that long, you'll be back home soon. Jeremiah's answer: Nope, not the case. Your "turn one" is going to last a while, and you need to be thinking about what you're going to do while you're in that "turn one." Eventually, you'll make it through your "turn two"; God did promise "you will find me when you seek me," and that he would restore their fortunes.
So how are we supposed to handle our "turn one" while looking towards the exit from "turn two"? What are we supposed to get out of our experience of being in lockdown, in quarantine, in this abnormal where we are confronted with empty shelves that should be full of toilet paper, of fresh meat and vegetables, of fresh produce?
The main thing? Be humble, and seek God with all our hearts.
I would love to get out of this "turn one" now, or in the next week or next month. I want to go to the store and not worry about, can I get bread, or meat? Or toilet paper? I dislike being bored and stir-crazy. And sometimes I would just rather whine and wallow in how hard my life has been.
But this virus will come to an end. The turn two will happen. The death rate will drop to the point where we can safely, again, shake hands, hug, get closer than six feet, visit a church, go shopping, and not be afraid.
What are we going to take out of this "turn one" experience when we exit from "turn two?"
Right now, I don't know yet. Perhaps I will have more of an appreciation for gatherings, for seeing people face to face. Perhaps I will know not to take for granted whether or not my local store has what I need or what I want.
Maybe, just maybe, now is the time to put my helmet on, hop in the driver's seat, fire up the engine, and take off down the straightaway . . . and when I twist that wheel and go into turn one, lock my eyes onto that "turn two" exit. Because I want to come out of that "turn two" better than I was when I went into "turn one"
In the meantime, let's crank up the stereo and sing it loud:
It's the end of the world as we know it
It's the end of the world as we know it
It's the end of the world as we know it
And I feel fine!
Just my .04, adjusted for inflation.
Saturday, March 28, 2020
Tina's TEOTWAWKI Journal, Day 16
Part of how the history of the coronavirus will be told should include all the public service announcements/commercials by businesses. State Farm has assured us, to the tune of "Rise Up", that they will be with us; Burger King has introduced no-contact delivery, as has Papa John's; Buick is doing something similar with car buying.
In the meantime, my county is in the first day of a stay-at-home order . . . with a long list of exceptions including medical care, food shopping, and outdoor activity as long as people comply with social distancing guidelines.
There are some people who wish that the powers-that-be had done this sooner. Others are angry at the county commission and saying, non-compliance is the order of the day!
I'm fighting boredom at the moment and I wish I could go out. But then I read that the number of deaths in the US from COVID-19 has doubled from 1,000 to 2,000 in one day. To the non-compliers out there, I hope that you still think your civil disobedience was worth it if you wind up in the hospital with coronavirus and there are no ventilators for you to use.
So, all together now:
It's the end of the world as we know it
It's the end of the world as we know it
It's the end of the world as we know it
And I feel fine!
Just my .04, adjusted for inflation.
In the meantime, my county is in the first day of a stay-at-home order . . . with a long list of exceptions including medical care, food shopping, and outdoor activity as long as people comply with social distancing guidelines.
There are some people who wish that the powers-that-be had done this sooner. Others are angry at the county commission and saying, non-compliance is the order of the day!
I'm fighting boredom at the moment and I wish I could go out. But then I read that the number of deaths in the US from COVID-19 has doubled from 1,000 to 2,000 in one day. To the non-compliers out there, I hope that you still think your civil disobedience was worth it if you wind up in the hospital with coronavirus and there are no ventilators for you to use.
So, all together now:
It's the end of the world as we know it
It's the end of the world as we know it
It's the end of the world as we know it
And I feel fine!
Just my .04, adjusted for inflation.
Friday, March 27, 2020
Tina’s TEOTWAWKI Journal, Day 15
Tonight at midnight, my county, Gwinnett, will go under a “stay at home” order. It means, stay home unless you have to do something absolutely essential . . . (and then there is a lengthy list of what is considered “essential”, such as food shopping and doctor’s appointments.)
So, what did my husband and I do before the clock struck midnight and Cinderella’s coach turned into a pumpkin?
We bought a microwave.
This is the second microwave we’ve bought in less than a month. The previous new microwave broke. The other day I pushed a button on the keypad and it did not work. Period. Our attempts to repair it via a YouTube video failed. My husband’s attempt to find a repair place netted the following information: 1. There’s really no place we can walk in and leave a microwave to be repaired, and 2. It would cost as much to buy a new one as it would to have the old one repaired.
So, we are now the proud owners of yet another new microwave.
So far, it is heating what we need for it to heat.
When this quarantine is over and its history is written, I wonder if anyone would find this blog and scratch their head over what my concerns were?
Oh, well.
It’s the end of the world as we know it
It’s the end of the world as we know it
It’s the end of the world as we know it
And I feel fine!
Just my .04, adjusted for inflation.
So, what did my husband and I do before the clock struck midnight and Cinderella’s coach turned into a pumpkin?
We bought a microwave.
This is the second microwave we’ve bought in less than a month. The previous new microwave broke. The other day I pushed a button on the keypad and it did not work. Period. Our attempts to repair it via a YouTube video failed. My husband’s attempt to find a repair place netted the following information: 1. There’s really no place we can walk in and leave a microwave to be repaired, and 2. It would cost as much to buy a new one as it would to have the old one repaired.
So, we are now the proud owners of yet another new microwave.
So far, it is heating what we need for it to heat.
When this quarantine is over and its history is written, I wonder if anyone would find this blog and scratch their head over what my concerns were?
Oh, well.
It’s the end of the world as we know it
It’s the end of the world as we know it
It’s the end of the world as we know it
And I feel fine!
Just my .04, adjusted for inflation.
Thursday, March 26, 2020
Tina’s TEOTWAWKI Journal, Day 14
Two weeks down, how many more to go?
I almost did not write anything today. It has not been the world’s best day: woke up to help my son with a computer assignment, found out our BRAND NEW microwave WILL NOT WORK and a new one may not be in the offing for a while, had to reschedule a doctor’s appointment, and I’m just feeling a general sense of stir-craziness.
My BFF suggested that I play some Sims. So I played a little bit (making sure that a couple of my Sims got into some good fights), supported my local economy by getting takeout from McDonald’s, and then the three of us went to a nearby park for a walk. Walking trails in the parks in my county are open from sunrise to sunset. Playgrounds are closed.
The walk was good. Spring is here, in all its pollinated glory. My husband and I passed two girls taking pictures (one was posing and the other was shooting). Residents were just simply walking, or walking their dogs, or out with either family or friends.
We’re in a surreal time right now, of signs announcing “playground closed”, of #socialdistancing being the new hashtag, of anger and accusations of stoking hysteria or downplaying threats. Some accuse others of wanting to sacrifice a percentage of the population in the name of the economy. (I’d like to know, who decides who will be the sacrifices?)
But spring is still here. Our flowers are still blooming (first forsythia, daffodil and cherry; then Bradford pear, then dogwood and azalea — and white dogwoods bloom before the pink ones) and our pine trees are emitting the greenish-yellow pollen that is the annual scourge of people with allergies and the major source of income of our car washes.
Certain things you can count on. Spring will move into summer, and then fall, and then winter.
God is still here, even on my days of stir craziness and broken microwaves and online assignments.
He will still be here tomorrow.
So, one more time:
It’s the end of the world as we know it
It’s the end of the world as we know it
It’s the end of the world as we know it
And I feel fine!
Just my .04, adjusted for inflation.
i
I almost did not write anything today. It has not been the world’s best day: woke up to help my son with a computer assignment, found out our BRAND NEW microwave WILL NOT WORK and a new one may not be in the offing for a while, had to reschedule a doctor’s appointment, and I’m just feeling a general sense of stir-craziness.
My BFF suggested that I play some Sims. So I played a little bit (making sure that a couple of my Sims got into some good fights), supported my local economy by getting takeout from McDonald’s, and then the three of us went to a nearby park for a walk. Walking trails in the parks in my county are open from sunrise to sunset. Playgrounds are closed.
The walk was good. Spring is here, in all its pollinated glory. My husband and I passed two girls taking pictures (one was posing and the other was shooting). Residents were just simply walking, or walking their dogs, or out with either family or friends.
We’re in a surreal time right now, of signs announcing “playground closed”, of #socialdistancing being the new hashtag, of anger and accusations of stoking hysteria or downplaying threats. Some accuse others of wanting to sacrifice a percentage of the population in the name of the economy. (I’d like to know, who decides who will be the sacrifices?)
But spring is still here. Our flowers are still blooming (first forsythia, daffodil and cherry; then Bradford pear, then dogwood and azalea — and white dogwoods bloom before the pink ones) and our pine trees are emitting the greenish-yellow pollen that is the annual scourge of people with allergies and the major source of income of our car washes.
Certain things you can count on. Spring will move into summer, and then fall, and then winter.
God is still here, even on my days of stir craziness and broken microwaves and online assignments.
He will still be here tomorrow.
So, one more time:
It’s the end of the world as we know it
It’s the end of the world as we know it
It’s the end of the world as we know it
And I feel fine!
Just my .04, adjusted for inflation.
i
Wednesday, March 25, 2020
Tina's TEOTWAWKI Journal, Day 13
When you start losing track of days, that is not a good sign. I'm reminded of something author Corrie ten Boom did in The Hiding Place, when she was locked up in solitary confinement. She wrote that it seemed strangely important to her not to lose track of time, so she created a homemade "knife" from a whalebone stay and used it to scratch a calendar of sorts on her cell wall.
This has been feeling like either a Thursday or a Friday, when it's only Wednesday. And I nearly lost track of what number I was on with this journal. Was it day 12? Day 13?
There's been a lot of talk lately about faith, about, is it a lack of faith to not meet in a church building on Sundays during this outbreak? After all, God doesn't want us to be afraid, does he? And isn't choosing not to meet giving in to a spirit of fear? Fear means lack of faith, and God isn't pleased with a lack of faith.
There's also been talk about, we should defy government orders and meet anyway (in response to executive orders limiting the size of group meetings to ten or less.) After all, didn't Peter and John and the other apostles say that they must obey God rather than man?
Lastly, doesn't the Bible say that we should not give up meeting together? If we don't meet, and instead, rely on "online church", isn't that just the same as giving up meeting?
Okay, I'm just going to give you my thoughts as someone who is a Christian but not a theologian.
No, I do not believe it's a lack of faith to not meet in a church building right now. I do not believe that it's giving in to a spirit of fear. There is a difference between irrational fear and healthy fear. Being afraid of getting a novel (i.e. new) virus that there's no known treatment for yet is a healthy fear. I don't want to get sick. Therefore, I'm going to minimize my chances for getting sick by staying out of crowds.
Defying government and meeting anyway, in this case, is stupid. We are not in the same situation that believers in China or Iran or the Middle East or North Korea are. The preaching of the gospel of Christ is not against the law, and religious gatherings are not permanently banned. We are being asked to temporarily refrain from meeting in a church building due to a public health risk. This isn't a "We must obey God rather than man!" moment.
And, the scripture referred to that says "let us not give up meeting together" really means, "let's not abandon meeting together permanently" or " let us not desert the fellowship." Have we really given up meeting together? No. Many, many of us have been virtually worshiping through online services. My own church has done that. I could make a case for "deserting the fellowship" if we were not making any efforts to worship at all.
Lastly, I'm reminded of one of the temptations that Satan threw at Jesus when Jesus was being tempted in the wilderness. He took Jesus to one of the high points of the temple and said, "If you're the Son of God, throw yourself down. The Scripture says that 'he will command the angels to catch you'." (my paraphrase.)
Jesus shot back, "It also says not to put the Lord your God to the test!"
God loves us and I believe he will take care of us. That does not mean that he has an obligation to protect me if I deliberately walk out onto 285 in the middle of traffic. For me, that would be "putting the Lord your God to the test" and I do not want to do that to Him.
I think God is a God who expects us to use the brains and common sense that He gives us, and if that means for right now, we do not gather together in a church building, then so be it.
I miss my church family. I miss my sister group (my ladies' Bible study). Virtual hugs just aren't cutting it right now. But I will get through this a day at a time, and I believe God will give me what I need as I need it.
Take a deep breath, all, and join me in our theme song:
It's the end of the world as we know it
It's the end of the world as we know it
It's the end of the world as we know it
And I feel fine!
Just my .04, adjusted for inflation.
This has been feeling like either a Thursday or a Friday, when it's only Wednesday. And I nearly lost track of what number I was on with this journal. Was it day 12? Day 13?
There's been a lot of talk lately about faith, about, is it a lack of faith to not meet in a church building on Sundays during this outbreak? After all, God doesn't want us to be afraid, does he? And isn't choosing not to meet giving in to a spirit of fear? Fear means lack of faith, and God isn't pleased with a lack of faith.
There's also been talk about, we should defy government orders and meet anyway (in response to executive orders limiting the size of group meetings to ten or less.) After all, didn't Peter and John and the other apostles say that they must obey God rather than man?
Lastly, doesn't the Bible say that we should not give up meeting together? If we don't meet, and instead, rely on "online church", isn't that just the same as giving up meeting?
Okay, I'm just going to give you my thoughts as someone who is a Christian but not a theologian.
No, I do not believe it's a lack of faith to not meet in a church building right now. I do not believe that it's giving in to a spirit of fear. There is a difference between irrational fear and healthy fear. Being afraid of getting a novel (i.e. new) virus that there's no known treatment for yet is a healthy fear. I don't want to get sick. Therefore, I'm going to minimize my chances for getting sick by staying out of crowds.
Defying government and meeting anyway, in this case, is stupid. We are not in the same situation that believers in China or Iran or the Middle East or North Korea are. The preaching of the gospel of Christ is not against the law, and religious gatherings are not permanently banned. We are being asked to temporarily refrain from meeting in a church building due to a public health risk. This isn't a "We must obey God rather than man!" moment.
And, the scripture referred to that says "let us not give up meeting together" really means, "let's not abandon meeting together permanently" or " let us not desert the fellowship." Have we really given up meeting together? No. Many, many of us have been virtually worshiping through online services. My own church has done that. I could make a case for "deserting the fellowship" if we were not making any efforts to worship at all.
Lastly, I'm reminded of one of the temptations that Satan threw at Jesus when Jesus was being tempted in the wilderness. He took Jesus to one of the high points of the temple and said, "If you're the Son of God, throw yourself down. The Scripture says that 'he will command the angels to catch you'." (my paraphrase.)
Jesus shot back, "It also says not to put the Lord your God to the test!"
God loves us and I believe he will take care of us. That does not mean that he has an obligation to protect me if I deliberately walk out onto 285 in the middle of traffic. For me, that would be "putting the Lord your God to the test" and I do not want to do that to Him.
I think God is a God who expects us to use the brains and common sense that He gives us, and if that means for right now, we do not gather together in a church building, then so be it.
I miss my church family. I miss my sister group (my ladies' Bible study). Virtual hugs just aren't cutting it right now. But I will get through this a day at a time, and I believe God will give me what I need as I need it.
Take a deep breath, all, and join me in our theme song:
It's the end of the world as we know it
It's the end of the world as we know it
It's the end of the world as we know it
And I feel fine!
Just my .04, adjusted for inflation.
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