The feeling I’m feeling is grief. I read an article earlier that perfectly described this grief. It is anticipatory and unknown, and, although it is temporary, it feels never-ending. Grief is what it feels like to experience the COVID-19 pandemic.
Most moments, I am fine. I have peace through uncertainty, and I believe that soon the world will be and feel beautiful again. Those moments of clarity and security disappear when I spend too much time checking the news, scrolling through social media, or discussing the pandemic. When I inundate myself with information and opinions, reality strikes me: everything is distinctly not okay.
Grief and COVID-19
People are dying. Families are suffering with the sharp blade of lost jobs and empty bank accounts. Mental health issues are bubbling to the surface for millions of people.
The grief feels heaviest in these moments. Although I may personally be okay, hundreds of thousands of others are fearing for their lives; millions are unsure about tomorrow’s provisions, and billions – literally billions of people – are entering the unknown unprepared and terrified. Even if the virus stopped replicating and died off today, everything has already changed. We are collectively and individually grieving because our world, no matter what we do, will never be the same. We are forever changed.
How do we cope with that?
If what we are feeling is grief, then we already have a roadmap to processing these emotions. We know that grief comes in stages: denial, anger, depression, bargaining, and acceptance.
I have long moved past denial. Now I find myself alternating between a guttural, punch-a-pillow-and-scream-at-God anger and a sleep-all-day, cry-all-night depression. In the last few weeks, I have cried more times than in the last five years combined. In many ways, I feel unwoven by our new reality.
The healthiest and most beneficial way to get through grief is by experiencing it as it comes. Our emotions are not permanent fixtures. Once a feeling has been given proper attention, it moves on.
When I find that my roller coaster is going uphill again, headed for what feels like total meltdown and instability, I must simply hold on to my safety bar and release control. The emotions cycle quickly when I acknowledge them and allow them to be present with me. My feelings only hurt me when I deny, bury, or try to transform my them into something else.
this is hard
Everything is changing, and that is hard. We don’t know what the other side of COVID-19 looks like or when it will arrive. Each moment of the day, though, I wish that we were through it already. That’s grief.
Each day comes with its own trials, and each day, I struggle in a new way. Normal is gone, and I miss it. I miss my family, my friends, Texas Roadhouse rolls, and going to HomeGoods. I miss living in a community with my best friends and the days when I didn’t live alone. Working in Starbucks on a Thursday afternoon? I miss that deeply. I miss what I have taken for granted. Oh, how intensely I miss life.
Grief is hard even in a healthy community, and now we are all feeling rather alone.
But we are not alone. Even though we are separated, distant, and isolated from our communities: we are still in this fight together.
I would love to make this all end, to soothe your fears, and to calm the storm around you. I would love to save all of us from this grief, pain, and fear.
But I cannot.
together we journey
I am grieving, and so are you. We are in this together. As I strive daily to pour grace upon grace into the world, I hope that you will extend the same grace to this pastor. I am imperfect and completely unsure of how to shepherd souls during a pandemic. I need the same grace that you do, friends, and as I grieve, I hope you will remember me in your prayers.
Joy and peace settle in the corners of my soul when I focus on Scripture, prayer, and journaling. Additionally, I have found joy in reading books. (I may or may not be reading Harry Potter for the fifth time…) Listening to music, cooking dinner, and Facetiming my loved ones has brought me joy, too. Sometimes I find peace just by throwing my phone across the room, its power over me lost if for only a few hours. You should try it.
I cling to hope for a brighter future by dreaming of what I will do on the first day of “freedom” from the pandemic. I am grateful for the moments when I am joyful, and in the moments clouded by grief, I embrace that I am human. I’m reminded of Christ’s humanity and suffering, and I know that I am not alone. I pray, cry, and process my emotions with my loved ones. Before I know it, the grief has gone away for a while.
Today, my heart yearns for you to find rest. I hope you give yourself permission to accept grace as you grieve, and I pray that you will find joy amidst the chaos and uncertainty. May your hands be washed clean and all your hope be found in Jesus.
All my love and ceaseless prayers,
Pastor Nikki
Before you go, check out this podcast, FunTherapy by Mike Foster, for some amazing bites of wisdom and encouragement through the storm.
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