Unexpected. . . everything about this year seems to progress in a halting cadence of uncertainty- patternless, un-navigated, unimagined, unseen.
Life ebbs and flows forward, swirling in these new rhythms.
I have found myself not writing, because it seems for once we are together – the ocean bridged by the precarious nature of all of this. Every question seems to have the potential to shake foundations but also the minutiae to make us identify what is most essential.
Are our girls okay? Do they feel loved? Are they anchored in this unexpected uncertainty?
How do we reorganize and survive in a hospital that has been built on a foundation of transatlantic cooperation? Who is our team? Who has margin to help today?
How is our marriage? Are we stronger for this or more far apart? How was today? Who is more anchored? Who is unmoored?
Do we feel far away? How do we create community when the word distance punctuates so many sentences and situations?
Do we feel safe? How do we walk in the hospital every day and trust that He has marked our steps? (How do we marvel in the miracle that not one staff member in Kijabe has turned positive for COVID instead of feeling suffocated by the cloth over our faces?)
Do we see the potential in what faces us each day or only the impossibility? Can we sustain vision for the future when the details of the day seem overwhelming and a veil covers the way forward?
How do we face our weaknesses, so stark in these uncertainties, with grace while seeking to found our strength?
I don’t have answers most days to any of these questions, but maybe if I write them here, we can find even more common ground. . .
And perhaps, we can look back and see the answers years from now – and see that He was in the midst and unsurprised, that life continued to unfold in the answers to these questions. That 2020 shook up all that was unknown and made us cling to the only Anchor that holds . . .