Over It

I am over it. 

The Coronavirus that is. 

I woke up this morning and I was done. Tired of thinking about it, tired of hearing about it, tired of having conversations about it. I wanted to talk about sport, but hardly anyone is playing any. I looked for a news story which wasn’t about the virus, but I couldn’t find one. 

I want out. 

Whilst some of you may identify with me, my fatigue at this creeping virus is a little strange because it was only today that Toowoomba’s first case of Coronavirus was diagnosed (population 150 000). 

I don’t care, I still want out. 

I think I have hit the wall. We have been talking about this possibility for months. Some saw it coming and others didn’t believe it. Now it is here. Sports are postponed, church meetings have been suspended, the theatre is cancelled, and the list goes on and on. We have been told to keep our distance from each other and be sceptical of every surface and every person - after all, they could be a killer. 

Now we wait. 

I admit, I was apathetic at first. I didn’t take it very seriously. But it wasn’t long before the constant news and social media feeds stirred my fear of death into action. Before long I found myself fearing the death of my loved ones also. And all this from the one who knows and preaches that Jesus has delivered His children from slavery to the fear of death. 

I got stuck. 

Like a marathon runner who went out too hard in the first half mile, I am gassed … cooked … done. 

What now? 

The thought of the long-distance runner snagged me. I remembered all of the cross-country races I had gone to watch my sons run in. I recalled how every race began the same way – the gun would go off and the competitors would sprint for the first section as though it was a 100m race. As we spectated, we all thought to ourselves, “There is no way they can keep up that pace.” Sometimes I would position myself on the first corner so I could call out to my sons, “Find your own pace. You don’t have to keep up with them. Set your pace and catch them on the hills.” 

I love to run too, but I don’t run fast. I remember one of my boys telling me how they described the way I run to one of their friends. “He doesn’t run very fast, but he can run for a long time.” This is me. I have a pace, and I rarely exceed it. I don’t time myself and I don’t put myself under pressure. I set the pace at the start and I run at that pace for the duration. 

As I reflect, I can see I started the Coronavirus marathon at the speed my sons started their cross-countries – and I am gassed. But as I gasped for air, I noticed God the Father on the first bend - He was coaching me. He reminded me to settle into running the race the way He made me to run it. 

As I reoriented to the Father, I began to remember who He had made me to be. Here are a couple of realities which came to mind. 

I am powerful. He has given me His Spirit (Acts 1:8). I can do stuff. I don’t have to passively cower in the corner. He has given me a spirit of love, power, and self-control (2 Timothy 1:7). Life-controlling fear and anxiety is not normal for me anymore. There is a new normal. 

I am no longer enslaved to the fear of death (Hebrews 2:15). Jesus killed the Devil (the one with the power of death) and set me free. Death cannot intimidate me anymore. This life is short, eternity is long … and so, so good. 

As I considered who He had made me to be my rhythm began to settle and my lungs filled with air. 

And they will for you too. 

You have a lot going for you. 

So… get after it. 

Don’t let fear make you passive or aggressive. 

Remember who you are. 

He chose us in him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and blameless before him. In love he predestined us for adoption to himself as sons through Jesus Christ, according to the purpose of his will, to the praise of his glorious grace, with which he has blessed us in the Beloved. (Ephesians 1:4–6)