There is a small room in my grandparents’ basement, built by two brothers. My mom’s two cousins needed housing while they attended Dunwoody Institute the year of the Armistice Day Blizzard. That November 11th day in 1940 was unseasonably warm, but ended with a two-day snowstorm that caught many off guard, even freezing some to death. As the storm hit, the two brothers walked approximately five and a half miles from school to home. By the time they walked through the back door of the house, the ear of one was frozen and covered with snow.
Later on that little room served various uses, but what I remember about it is that it had a small framed statement, maybe 6 x 8 inches, that said, Stop Worrying. You’ll Never Get Out of This World Alive.
I loved that sign. It brought a wry smile to my face the first time I saw it and every time afterward. From time to time that admonition has returned to me with its whimsical truth. It certainly echos these days in which our country is facing not one, but three (or more) challenges.
As we continue to endure the corona virus pandemic and shut down, some feel great concern over what could happen when folks begin to venture again into normal life. They are worried about catching this virus and what it can do to their health or the health of a loved one. We hear concerns about it mutating, though a highly respected doctor asserts the parts of it that mutate don’t affect the parts that respond to treatment. We have treatment for it, but not everyone agrees whether hydroxochloroquine + azithromycin (+ zinc) is effective. There are even disagreements about why people agree or don’t agree with its effectiveness. We have unanswered questions: do or did I have it and not know it, if people get it and have some or no symptoms how can they avoid giving it to someone else, what if I get it and am one of the few who suffer and die? Scott Kesterson wrote something that gave me pause: Reflect. Our time on earth is finite. When we die is unknown. What is certain is that we will die. Some will die tonight. I hope it’s not a new thing for people to think about their own death, but maybe it is. Some US citizens these days are only for the first time facing a mortal challenge.
Others feel great concern over their rights being taken away. Shouldn’t there have at least been a war before someone dropped the hammer and decided when and where citizens can go, who they can visit, and what they are allowed to purchase? Those with power are revealing who they are: concerned and focused or controlling and oppressive. Even Hollywood stars are getting into the act by parroting whatever script they are given. Not all of them, but some. (Those some, I would add, have probably been bought by someone unseen and powerful. It’s very sad to think someone gained fame and fortune at such a steep price.) Those who know the history of communism and those who only think they do have opposing perspectives.
The majority of us are probably somewhere in between; caring about public health, yet also caring about freedom; caring about the vulnerable, yet also caring about restricting government orders and the destabilizing nature of an economy in its death throes.
Yes, we have a load of trouble on our hands. We have pestilence. We have threats of war. And thirdly, we have the kingdom of darkness right here. We are only now waking up to the widespread practice of satanism among the wealthy and powerful. It walked into our house and poured its black, evil, vile presence all over the place. And whether we’re ready or not, we must fight it. We must banish it from our home and vanquish it as well as we can. And we must do so whether we’re scared or worried or weak.
These are worrisome times, but we have a God whose mighty hand can part seas, heal those who are sick, fight battles, and calm storms. That hand can even raise the dead! Why do we dismiss His power so easily? We are walking through our own Armistice Day blizzard of sorts. It took us by surprise! It’s difficult to see the path in front of us! Yet we know we must persevere in order to get to a place of safety and warmth.
Finally, let’s bring to mind not just worrisome things, but lovely things, too; because they are part of what strengthens us. As we walk this beautiful, weary world, it will do more good to let go of the things that weigh our journey down: hate, past troubles, worry, than to carry their sorry carcasses on our backs. There’s a lot to love and appreciate. Always. Even during troubled times.
Stop worrying. You’ll never get out of this world alive.
Bards of War, Scott Kesterson, https://www.Youtube.com/channel/UCOtB_qcFywPqu0uVwf6RPpw; Image: pexels.com; https://www.facebook.com/TippingPointonOAN/videos/282333452762416/?t=3
Things have already been strange. Very strange. Ever since Moses returned to his hometown in Egypt from his adopted desert home, unbelievable events have taken place. For one thing the Nile turned from water to blood for awhile. No, it wasn’t some weird algae thing. It was blood. You don’t believe me? Ask anyone. The stench was terrible and, of course, no one – not even the animals – could drink from it. Then frogs. Frogs! Really! They were all over the place. They’re slippery when you step on them. Did you know that? Not after they’re dead and dried up under the sun. No. When they’re alive and hopping all over the place and you can’t walk anywhere without stepping on them. I won’t even talk about the gnats that flew up our noses. But we at least got a reprieve from the flies – swarms of them – that were all over the place in Egypt. It was the same with the plague on the livestock. What a loss! Oh, not in Goshen. No, we Israelites were prevented that trouble here. And the boils, hail, locusts, and darkness. I kid you not. I almost, almost, began to feel sorry for the people who had enslaved us for hundreds of years – until I remembered how we were treated by them.
Now this. Moses and Aaron got us all together and said we’re supposed to take a year-old male lamb without any defects into our homes for two weeks. We’re supposed to make sure there are enough lambs to feed every family member. Then – slaughter! Yes. Just when we were starting to like the little thing. My brother even named it. He eats out of my hand, you know; his little tongue licking every last bit. But we can’t make excuses. He has to be slaughtered at twilight. Then my parents are supposed to take some of his blood and smear it on the sides and tops of the door frame. Every family in this town is supposed to do it. We won’t be the only ones crying over our little lamb.
We wonder what will happen at midnight, and everyone in the neighborhood has their own idea. But we all agree the Egyptians won’t do this. Oh! What if we can hear the wailing clear over here when every Egyptian household loses their firstborn: the Egyptians in prison clear up to the Egyptians in the palace. Horror! And Moses says be ready. After everything else that’s happened since he returned, we will do what he says. Don’t take time to let your bread rise. Eat lamb roasted over fire, along with bitter herbs and the bread that didn’t have time to rise. Pack a go bag because the Pharaoh will call for Moses and tell him he will finally grant his request to let us out of slavery. But we must hurry, hurry, hurry! Grab what we can and go! Go fast! And if some Egyptians give us some of their stuff to make us leave, well I won’t stop them. Plunder can be done in a variety of ways, can it not?
It’s twilight. Oh! The lamb! The bleating! The blood spatter! We cry, but we do what we’re told. We follow the instructions. Death will pass because of the lamb’s blood. We shut the door.
