by Joanie Butman
One of my devotions this week shared a conversation similar to many I’ve had recently. In it the author was lamenting that “he didn’t feel like he’d accomplished anything significant during quarantine. He didn’t learn to speak a new language or finish a major project.” His self-reproach is a temptation many fall prey to – especially if you spend too much time on social media.
Yes, there are plenty of people who have used this time to achieve amazing things. A friend shared this tidbit of history: “Sir Isaac Newton was in quarantine during the Great Plague and used the time to develop calculus, create his optical theories, and wander around the apple trees that stimulated his ideas about gravity. At the same time, and only about 60 miles away, William Shakespeare wrote King Lear, Macbeth, and Antony and Cleopatra.”
No doubt there are similarly gifted folk crafting amazing works right now that will be shared in the future. I am not one of them. If you didn’t have the ability to master quantum physics or pen a novel before, it’s not going to miraculously occur during quarantine. Like previous personal quarantines, mine was one of healing and restoration, a time of being not doing. Fortunately, I did not have the responsibility of homeschooling anyone. Once again, I was the student being homeschooled by Christ.
Since 2007 I’ve been learning a new language and through each health crisis, I’ve become more proficient. It is God’s language of love and grace. It may not help me ask directions or order food in a foreign land, but His love language need not be conveyed in words. His tutorials help me learn how to better love my neighbor, whether it’s the one across the table or across the globe.
Following surgery in February, the six weeks I intended on spending in Florida to rest and recuperate have been extended as has my homeschooling. I’m thankful for being given the opportunity to quarantine in such a beautiful place where I can be outside every day in the sunshine, studying the Bible through His creation. It was a nature theology class. Lesson #1: God must be a man. Only a male would create phallic-looking plants. When I pointed this out to a friend, she offered some Freudian psychobabble. I assured her that Freud’s assertions do not pertain to post-menopausal women in quarantine!
All kidding aside, God has used my convalescence as an excellent teaching opportunity. As in the past, my forced stillness eliminates all the normal distractions so that He has my undivided attention. It’s part of the healing process. After the initial crisis is over, the healing pause before life resumes is an opportunity to reflect on the lessons I am meant to carry forward. It is always preparation for what lies ahead.
As I brace for re-entry this week, I leave Florida stronger than when I arrived - renewed physically and spiritually. I will never master God’s love language while on earth. His teaching will never end until I arrive in my Heavenly home. Until then His lessons are new every morning. His world is my classroom, and His teachings are meant to be shared.
When the disciples communicated their testimony about Christ, I don’t think they imagined their words would still be read thousands of years later. They were simply sharing the good news they’d been given by Christ. In fact, a number of books of the Bible were written by Paul from prison (his own forced quarantine). In the same way I suppose each of us offers our own gospel message. By living out our own faith, we are writing the only Bible some people will ever read. There is nothing more significant, and never is our message louder than how we choose to handle suffering and adversity.
I’ll leave you with last night’s lesson.
The universal spiritual pattern is death and resurrection, or loss and renewal (day/night, winter/spring, illness/health). Watching the sunset at night is but one example - and a glorious one.
From sunrise to sunset, let the LORD's name be praised! (Psalm 113:3)
