Hello Darkness, my old friend.

Psalm 88:18 

My companions and neighbors you have put away from me, and hidden my friends out of my sight.

Each morning I read the Bible passages the lectionary assigns for the day - a Psalm, a passage from the Hebrew Bible, and one from the New Testament.  I also read several daily devotions and meditations.  Sometimes one of the daily devotions does not match any of those readings, but stirs something in me that the assigned readings do not.  Today is one of those days.  Because when I read this verse from Psalm 88 my reaction was, “Whoa!  This is how it feels.”

This is how depression feels.  This is how many of us are feeling right now, after sheltering in place for over 2 months and seeing a glimmer of light, a possibility that we will be able to be with other humans again soon.  I mean, I love my cats, but their companionship cannot substitute for human contact.   Mind you, I have seen people on Zoom, and at my front door - where they stand at the edge of the patio while I stand inside the screen door.  I have a person who comes and shops for me, so I get to see them for a little while each week.  I regularly exchange cheerful greetings with the Postal Carrier, and with the UPS, FedEx, and Amazon delivery people.  

But I can’t sit down and have coffee and a conversation with them. I can’t hug someone who needs a hug - or get a hug when I need one.  I can’t watch a program on BritBox or Netflix with a friend.  I can’t go have a meal whenever and wherever I want to go. I want to stand up in front of my congregation and see faces while I am preaching!  I really really want to do those things!  

And I do think it feels a bit worse now, when the Governor of California has said houses of worship may begin to gather publicly again under certain restrictions.  I am just as anxious as everyone else to get back to worship, to get back to the way things used to be.

But . . . I have asthma and COPD, so it will be quite some time before it is sort of safe-ish for me to go out.  Even with social distancing.  Even with a mask on.   A lot of folks in all of our congregations are in the same position.  

AND . . . I know it will not be the way it used to be for who knows how long.  Maybe a couple of years, according to some.  And by that time, we will be used to the ways we have learned to do everything. We will be accustomed to  a new way of living and being, and worshipping.

Meanwhile, we will keep looking for ways to do the things we miss safely.  And while we are doing that, while we are at home missing our friends and neighbors, missing human contacts,  we can cry out with the psalmist, 

1. “Lord, God of my salvation, by day I cry out,

    even at night, before you—

2  let my prayer reach you!

   Turn your ear to my outcry! 

Loving God, even when it feels like we are alone and mired in darkness, we know you are with us.  Hold us in your arms, we pray, that we may feel the comfort and healing power of your love.  Amen.