“What a glorious time,” I mused to a coworker. From the expression on his face, I could tell it wasn’t the sentiment he expected to describe a week when the coronavirus has crippled many communities all around the world. But I hope you’ll hear me out, as he did.
I recall a similar state of anxious concern within my own family in May 2010. A week earlier, my wife and I had welcomed our firstborn with celebration, excitement, and laughter. But in that moment, all of it was displaced by fear, confusion, and tears: Our precious baby boy had contracted meningitis, and our world was turned upside-down. I felt helpless. Watching my infant son enveloped by tubes, I wanted nothing more than to trade places with him — but that’s not how it works.
In time, Micah fully recovered. As I reflect on what is now a distant memory, I remain deeply grateful to the healthcare providers who served our family in those terrifying days. Many of these same men and women are again on the frontlines of serving in our communities as they respond to the coronavirus. I remember them and the many other compassionate souls whose listening ears and comforting presence shepherded us through one of the most difficult seasons of our life. And I’m reminded of how important it is to be there for each other — even and especially in this time of social distancing. In moments of uncertainty, I remain confident that the path of kindness, compassion, and love most certainly matters.
For many, this is an anxious time, a troubling time, a lonely time — even a terrifying time. But I believe this is also a glorious time, filled with opportunities to reveal our character and live out our convictions: Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. We’re merely stewards, not owners. Be good stewards of what we’ve been entrusted — family, health, finances, business, and even our life — yes, our very life. This is an opportune time. As we remember our shared humanity, let us continue to unleash neighborly kindness, ridiculous generosity, and radical love.
Every single one of us, our days are numbered — no exceptions. May we continue to embody our values and live well. Be blessed by these words by the late Pastor Kyle Lake.
[p.s. My prayers are with families going through serious losses due to the coronavirus. Please do not hesitate to reach out to me directly ([email protected]) if you or anyone you know are in a jam.]
Live. And Live Well.
BREATHE. Breath in and Breathe deeply. Be PRESENT. Do not be past. Do not be future. Be now.
On a crystal-clear, breezy, 70-degree day, roll down the windows and FEEL the wind against your skin. Feel the warmth of the sun.
If you run, then allow those first few breaths on a cool autumn day to FREEZE your lungs and do not just be alarmed, be ALIVE.
Get knee-deep in a novel and LOSE track of time.
If you bike, pedal HARD … and if you crash, then crash well.
Feel the SATISFACTION of a job well-done — a paper well-written, a project thoroughly completed, a play well-performed.
If you must wipe the snot from your three-year-old’s nose, don’t be disgusted if the Kleenex doesn’t catch it all … because soon he’ll be wiping his own.
If you’ve recently experienced loss, then GRIEVE. And Grieve well.
At the table with friends and family, LAUGH. If you’re eating and laughing at the same time, then might as well laugh until you puke. And if you eat, then SMELL. The aromas are not impediments to your day. Steak on the grill, coffee beans freshly ground, cookies in the oven. And TASTE. Taste every ounce of flavor. Taste every ounce of friendship.
Taste every ounce of Life. Because it is most definitely a gift.— Kyle Lake