[Susan Kimmel Wright] Joy in the Time of Coronavirus

On March 19th spring arrived, though signs had been appearing for some time. Daffodils and crocuses had already pushed up through last year’s fallen leaves and a lingering crust of snow. Tiny buds, pale green and pink, swelled at the branch tips. Robins hopped across lawns, pecking hopefully at winter-brown grass, while in the low areas, purple skunk cabbage turbans unfurled.

Spring continued her exuberant dance across the last days of March and on into April. I’d looked forward to it. But even as grass and trees burst into green under sunny skies, that joyful springtime feeling escaped me.

A Strange Springtime

Like many others, I was in coronavirus quarantine. Days passed, no longer tethered to any weekly pattern, with only the recurring rhythms of dawn and dusk to mark the passage of time. Everything just felt…weird.

How could I enjoy warm sunshine while essential workers risked their lives twelve hours a day, and other people were losing their livelihoods? I couldn’t pet our well-fed dogs and cat without thinking they led more comfortable lives than thousands of struggling human beings.

How could I savor a cup of tea or the fragrance of fresh-baked bread, when people were dying alone? Shouldn’t I eat the bread of sorrow and drink tears from my cup?

While I delighted in my loved ones, others wept over hospital beds they couldn’t visit—or coffins. Wasn’t it insensitive to rejoice in my strong body when others, burning with fever, struggled for their next breath?

We Miss the Joy

Scripture tells us joy is a fruit of the Holy Spirit. Overwhelmed by the incessant drumbeat of bad news, I felt far from joyful, and I sensed I wasn’t alone in feeling that way. Perhaps this wasn’t a new problem, either. Maybe it wasn’t self-consciousness about our undeserved blessings so much as blindness to them. Depressed over being forced into lockdown, we missed the joy.

Again and again, we miss the joy. Like the Israelites led out of bitter bondage and given manna from heaven, we kvetch—”I want meat; I want onions!”

Sure, we have enough food and a roof over our head. If we’re lucky, we have loved ones or pets quarantined with us. We may even have a stockpile of disinfectants and paper products. But we aren’t satisfied.

Small things are all we really have here on earth. Just this moment. By focusing on what we’re missing, we sacrifice our joy.

A Change of Focus

Too often, we only see in retrospect what it was we had—and how sweet. We look back after a loss and think, Why didn’t I realize what I had? Why didn’t I hold it dearer? If only I could turn back time… If we’d only open our eyes, who’d fail to see how blessed he is this very day? How sad to see it only in memory. A wise person once asked, “Would you take a million dollars for what you have today?” For your health? For your loved one?

Yes, we should care about the suffering, but also be profoundly grateful for what we have. Isn’t it a sin against God and all who suffer, if we have good things and don’t appreciate them?

Be Joyful

A grim outlook does not make us more spiritual, and it certainly doesn’t make us more productive. Joy, not gravity, is a fruit of the Spirit. It’s God’s will that we not despise his gifts.

A joyful heart is a resilient heart. Proverbs tells us, “A cheerful heart is good medicine, but a crushed spirit dries up the bones.” (17:22 NIV) Joy is actually beneficial to our health!

Even in our dark times—which sooner or later befall all of mankind—joy is not only possible, but essential. As James tells us, “Count it all joy when you fall into various trials…” (James 1:2 NKJV) Even when we’ve lost all our earthly blessings, we still have God. Even in a strange springtime, he is with us.

Cause for joy is all around us—let us embrace it and rebuke the darkness.