Sabbath Devotional :: Love in the Time of Coronavirus

love in the time of coronavirus - Mormon Women for Ethical Government — .

A few nights ago, as we were falling asleep, my husband said to me, “I’m getting pretty tired of living in interesting times.” I feel the same way. The past three years have felt surreal, and the past week or two especially. I feel like I hardly recognize my world from day to day.

As we read the Come, Follow Me Book of Mormon lesson this week, I was struck with Jacob’s fixation on and concern for his people. I was especially moved by the last verse of the reading. As he transitions into his analogy of the olive vineyard, he says this: “Behold, my beloved brethren, I will unfold this mystery unto you; if I do not, by any means, get shaken from my firmness in the Spirit, and stumble because of my over anxiety for you” (Jacob 4:18).

I was moved by Jacob’s admission that his anxiety was a little out of control. I know his anxiety was motivated by love, so it’s hard to fault him, especially as I found common cause with Jacob this week as my anxiety, too, has been raging. But Jacob’s concern is not just that he has too much anxiety, it’s specifically that his anxiety might interfere with the firmness of the spirit that he will need in order to teach his people what they need to know, in order to care for them the way they need to be cared for. And that, I can definitely relate to.

I was reminded of another anxious prophet — Jacob’s brother, Nephi. Toward the end of his record, he, too, reflected about his anxiety for his people: “But I, Nephi, have written what I have written, and I esteem it as of great worth, and especially unto my people. For I pray continually for them by day, and mine eyes water my pillow by night, because of them; and I cry unto my God in faith, and I know that he will hear my cry. And I know that the Lord God will consecrate my prayers for the gain of my people. And the words which I have written in weakness will be made strong” (2 Nephi 33:3-4).

Finally, I am reminded of the words of Emma Smith at the meeting formalizing the founding of the Relief Society. She and Eliza R. Snow debated what the society ought to be called. Eliza protested that “Relief Society” made it sound like they were there for extraordinary occasions, not for the everyday and the mundane. The minutes record Emma’s response: “We are going to do something extraordinary — when a boat is stuck on the rapids with a multitude of Mormons on board we shall consider that a loud call for relief — we expect extraordinary occasions and pressing calls.”

It has become clear to me that the next days, weeks, months, and maybe even years will be full of extraordinary occasions and pressing calls. They will require more of us, and in more ways, than has been asked of us thus far. And I, for one, am terrified. I feel like I don’t have the spiritual strength that I should. I feel like I’m not creative enough, not kind enough, not thoughtful enough, just not ready. I feel like one of the five foolish virgins. I have enough oil, and toilet paper too, but I’m beginning to sense that what I really need is greater love, greater fortitude, and greater eternal perspective.

I’ve wondered this past week: How can I live in a world that might blow apart in an instant? The answer is, of course, that I’ve always lived in that world, I just had the luxury of ignoring it before now. But those in war-torn Syria knew it, and those throughout gang-ravaged Central America knew it, and I, and my privileged little bubble, could scroll by and say, “Oh, what a shame!” And historically, ours is not the first generation to encounter this upheaval: Our parents and grandparents feared death in the atomic winter that the Cold War always threatened. Their parents feared death or defeat in foreign wars. Their parents feared deadly plagues, crop failure, and a thousand tragedies that were commonplace in a world before vaccines and antibiotics. And somehow, they lived! Somehow, if their records are to be believed, they found joy!

Paul, in his epistle to the Hebrews, gave some advice that I find comforting, or at least bucking up. After first citing the example of historical figures who showed great faith in times of trial, he said this: “Wherefore seeing we also are compassed about with so great a cloud of witnesses let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us, and let us run with patience the race that is set before us, Looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith; who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of God. For consider him…lest ye be wearied and faint in your minds… [F]or he hath said, I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee. So that we may boldly say, The Lord is my helper, and I will not fear” (Hebrews 12:1-3; 13:5-6).

I pray we might be confident in the Lord’s help in the days ahead, that we might be creative in the way we address extraordinary occasions and pressing calls, that our over-anxiety might not shake our firmness and our resolve to do what needs to be done, that the Lord might consecrate our words, our prayers, and our deeds, for the welfare of our neighbors. In this time of peril, I pray that we might be filled with strength, and love, and peace.