In you, O LORD, I seek refuge;
do not let me ever be put to shame;
in your righteousness deliver me.
Incline your ear to me;
rescue me speedily.
Be a rock of refuge for me,
a strong fortress to save me.
You are indeed my rock and my fortress;
for your name's sake lead me and guide me,
take me out of the net that is hidden for me,
for you are my refuge.
Into your hand I commit my spirit;
you have redeemed me, O LORD, faithful God.
Psalm 31.1-5
"Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light." Matthew 11.28-30
My Mom, Florence Hatcher, was diagnosed with Covid 19 today. She turned 90 four days before Christmas. She celebrated with some of the staff at her care center in Osceola, IA. The pandemic kept all her children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren at bay. Mom has dementia. She doesn't always remember the day, what she had for dinner or who has visited her. I haven't seen her since just before Christmas last year. Phone calls confuse her, so I haven't heard her voice since my last visit.
She isn't the first person in Iowa to suffer from the pandemic, and she won't be the last. She has a decent chance of recovering, but the fear gnaws at my heart that she may die. I worry that, like so many people, she may die surrounded by the staff at her care center, but none of her family.
We lean on the Rock of our salvation this year more than we ever have had to before. A virus we cannot see with the unaided eye has turned so many things upside down. The pandemic spreads, then pulls back only to spread once more. We are hesitant to go places. We worry about passing the virus on to others. It concerns us that we may contract it.
It is a challenge to be optimistic and upbeat when nearly every day is another announcement of the pandemic spreading, destroying lives, or mutating into a more contagious version. It is even more so when it touches someone you love and who has loved you.
Jesus calls us to come to Him when we are burdened. He promises rest for our souls. He is willing to bear the burdens we find too challenging to carry. How do we know this? The answer lies in Psalm 31. In the final moments of His life, dying on the Cross, Jesus prayed part of Psalm 31: Into your hand I commit my spirit.
These final words remind us that every burden, loss, or sorrow we know in life has been taken up with Him on the Cross. As He dies, their lasting power over us is broken. When He rises from the grave, He brings with Him all the mercy and grace of the Father. In His life, we are given hope that even a pandemic cannot destroy.
Even if Mom does not recover from Covid, she will still be the Father's child as we pray she will. What disease, age, and failing memory may have taken will be restored in a fullness we cannot imagine here. We will cast all our burdens on the Lord, for He will bear them.
Now, I pray that our Lord will heal her. I pray that I may one day soon see her, talk with her and hear her voice. I pray confident that whatever may come, it will be as the Lord directs.
Jesus, I lay my fears on you. I trust my hopes to you. Mom is in your hands, as she always has been. May all the families awaiting the outcome of the pandemic bring their burdens to you. Amen.