I want to say so many things to
This man who does not really see
“This little girl”
But I know You
See her, see me, see them
All the little ones who
Need a God like You
Take my sins away, heal my wounds, stay until I am well, bring justice in your wings, never blame the victim, never stop searching for treasure
You
who were, who are, who always will be
Just You,
and “this little girl”
“Can you sew? The medical masks are running out or have run out where Covid-19 has hit hard. Please consider sharing this post.
Simple cloth mask tutorials are online and on YouTube.
Please sew and share.”
That was the original post, after news that Texas is already able to calculate when masks and other PPE devices will run out–in weeks. not months.
I get that “the economy” is important, but without some significant investment in the life and health of the millions of people who are and will be hit and the healthcare workers who will also be hit by the devastating consequences of Covid-19, just opening America for business may not be the wisest and safest way
To fight this contagion.
I do think that short of lockdown (best plan), we need to discuss store hours for seniors and the immuno-compromised, husbanding ventilator resources, and yes,
We are probably going to need those homemade masks
More than ever.
Matthew 24:7-8 KJV
[7] For nation shall rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom: and there shall be famines, and pestilences, and earthquakes, in divers places. [8] All these are the beginning of sorrows.
About a month ago I spent a day dragging my family through a crash course in coronavirus. It was appalling.
We put too much emphasis on testing. Testing would be great only if there were limitless tests and the tests were far more reliable than they are. If that were the case then we should all follow a protocol of weekly prophylactic testing.
Not feasible right now.
A few years ago my family started to play a modified version of a very complicated fictional tennis game from David Foster Wallace’s Infinite Jest. His version was very apocalyptic (fitting); ours was as well but with a fraction of the complexity.
In our version two teams of as many people as you have (evenly divided, of course) face each other on either side of the net. We divided as many balls as we could muster and started hitting them across the net relentlessly. The opposing team did the same. At a predetermined point (like music chairs), we would pause the game. The team with fewer balls on their side won that round and then we would continue.
Great cardio workout. Quickly exhausting.
That is coronavirus. We will all face an onslaught of a relentlessly moving, mutating virus which can spread quickly, if not effortlessly, through contact and fomite transmission.
Eschaton is a fun game.
This is not. But if I know one thing about how to “win” at eschaton, it is organize your team and don’t stop lobbing the balls back across the net.
We don’t play eschaton right now. Our tennis court is closed. That is a good thing. The best way to “win” at this is to assume we are all spreaders and keep us all
Six feet apart.
Pray. Pray because our lives depend on it. Imagine what a simple game of eschaton would look like if
God were clearly on
The winning side.
Matthew 17:20-21 KJV
[20] And Jesus said unto them, Because of your unbelief: for verily I say unto you, If ye have faith as a grain of mustard seed, ye shall say unto this mountain, Remove hence to yonder place; and it shall remove; and nothing shall be impossible unto you. [21] Howbeit this kind goeth not out but by prayer and fasting.
While my son brushes his teeth I take the number of people who have died by now from Covid-19 in the United States and divide it by our total population
Then I find what Day Italy had the same ratoo
Then I take the number of people who died in Italy today
And divide it by the total population
Then multiple that decimal by our total population
By this rough equation
Three weeks from now our fatalities will bave
Risen to 18,000
I could not tell you a name for
the pallet of this one night sky
Inkyblueblack
One plane
Less than the usual number in the airspace threaded between San Antonio and Austin
And a single small snake down below
Licking its way across rough cement
Most likely non-venomous, but
Who can tell
When things are still so
new?
Only one of them, the beloved, would be clueless and self-absorbed, inclined to foibles and easily distracted
A regular
Flibbertigibbet!
But the Other One—
He would always be true.
I do simple math–100 divided by 360 million equals .00000028 times 60 million equals 17.
February 27th was the day that Italy stood where we are now. 0.000000028 Italian had died of Covid-19 and now 0.00000028 Americans have
Died of Covid-19
In 20 days they have lost so many people
More than 2500 (0.0042)
Three weeks
I am always haunted by three weeks
In the future (15,120)
I have been having the mildest of stress dreams–quirky, bureaucratic hotel check ins, attempts to gather the hard-to-shepherd, things washed away. I know why the dreams have come, and I doubt they will leave me soon, even if the heat and intensity of a gathering sun should cause them to lose their inevitable grip and dissipate
I turn to morning songs and croak out broken praises
Think I should listen to the Gospel, but chose Isaiah instead
Because these are old
And New Testament times
And we are all in wont
of fierce faces
Isaiah 2:16 KJV
[16] And upon all the ships of Tarshish, and upon all pleasant pictures.
A couple years ago my family went through a pandemic. It was a bad year for kitten parvo or panleukopenia, and we were kitten fosters.
We lost them all and watched the feral kittens at a local park disappear one by one.
It was devastating. Some shelters were euthanizing kittens on arrival. It changed everyone who was involved.
And I stopped fostering kittens. My kids couldn’t take it anymore.
Everything felt normal on the outside that summer. Humans all around us lived totally unaware of the chaos and brutal death we experienced.
I think about that summer every day. The numbers on this pandemic are not as catastrophic as the panleukopenia, but each death represents a wound to family, friends, and community.
I believe in hand sanitizer and sterile fields, but I believe in our eternal nature more.
We need to pray, to sing loud to God. We need to make our lives count for something eternal
Every day we have
Together
Elealee's Blog 