The Sunday night blues are getting worse.
I've always had them. Almost always.
Sunday night. The evening you spend thinking about returning to work and wishing it wasn't a thing.
It's so much worse now.
I have to wear a mask all day. I have to take my temperature before I begin my shift. I have to take the temperature of visitors entering the building. Extra duties, extra drama.
It's not that I'm afraid to be out. I'm not afraid. I just cannot put into appropriate words how exhausting it is. Every task you undertake is an ordeal. It's three extra steps to do one thing. Nothing is simple anymore.
Each day it gets harder to keep your sense of humor. I'm not totally gone because I can share that I'm now thinking about giving up coffee. When you have to smell your own coffee breath all day it gives you renewed appreciation for your loved ones and helps you consider other beverage options.
I hate losing my sense of humor. It is the one thing to which you must hold tight, your humor. It is what allows you to make it through, and once it is gone, the only remaining thing to lose is hope.
The opinions are many. Too many. The dialogue, q and a sessions, "read this from my doctor friend," the theories, the articles... I've given up trying to process what is accurate. I don't believe it is within my scope to know it. The world and all its sources have proven untrustworthy time and again. The opinions of anyone are just that.
I know in whom I have believed. His word. His voice. Is the truth. As I go through the day, if I step back, as if stepping outside my body, I see the noise. Yes, you read it correctly, I "see" the noise. It looks like emotion. It looks like a train. It looks like a storm in which the eye is never quite reached. It looks like barren wasteland. It looks like deprivation. It looks like tears. I step back in and, in slow motion, the words I need to hear come toward me. The truth slices deeply through the noise.
"Angela, beloved daughter, you seek a home to come, here you have no continuing city. Ask me for wisdom and I will give it freely. Lean into me. Listen to my voice. This present world is full of trouble, it always will be. I give you peace to carry with you. Remember my joy. It's here. I'm walking with you each day. You never go anywhere alone. I made oceans and trees and stars and I hold your hand. Do not listen to the chaos. Do not be disheartened by the noise. You get to walk like a lion today. I will fulfill a purpose in your day. As you wear that mask, take your temperature, hear the opinions and politics, roll your eyes, and start to feel discouraged, remember I put you in year 40 in the year 2020 in this New York culture for a specific reason. You can't see it. You don't know what good is possibly going to come from clocking into work each day. But what you do every day bears witness to God. So do it right. Do it well. Shine a light in dark places. The dark will try to overcome you but it can't. Because you, Angela, beloved daughter, carry the light of the world with you. You bring hope when all the lights are going out. Be excited that it's Monday. You get to be an influencer. I am with you. Even to the end of the age."
Let's roll.
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