In the Midst of a Pandemic
David & Liz Mikel
Some seasons of life are fuller than others. In those times, I (Liz) have learned how healing it can be to just name all that I’m encountering, all of the burdens that are weighing on my soul. I did this today, to reflect and allow myself healing — in a year that’s already been full (and hard) for us both.
As we (Liz + David) wrote down our list, over 20 hard-and-heavy experiences came quickly to mind. It includes accepting a promotion (Liz) requiring us to move across the country; selling a home (in the midst of a pandemic); moving across the country with two dogs in tow (in the midst of a pandemic); saying goodbye to IL friends and trying to find new TX friends (in the midst of a pandemic); quitting a job, job searching, and finding a new job (David) (all in the midst of a pandemic); and so on.
Add to that our country going through a racial crisis, and we’ve been exploring our own contributions and complicity to systems of injustice. As we peel back layer upon layer of our racial biases, our privilege, we ask ourselves how to step out, to step up, and be agents of change in national and local racial reconciliation. And yet, here we are, in the midst of a pandemic. In the midst of putting down roots in a new city, a new state, we’re asking ourselves, what the heck does activism realistically look like in this new space?
We’re reflecting how much the in-the-midst-of-a-pandemic layer adds complication, confusion, exhaustion to every move we make. I (Liz) have a friend who often tells me, “Be gentle with my friend Liz!” when she catches me in unhealthy self-talk; I’m telling myself that a lot this year. At the same time, I’m seeing God all over the place. I’m hearing Them (God) in the empty calendar slots allowing for weeknight walks; I’m seeing Them in beautifully vulnerable (albeit hard) conversations about racial hurts and healing in the midst of my new work team; I’m feeling God in my uncharacteristic contentment with just sitting, just allowing myself to soak in a moment.
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I (David) see God using the uniqueness of this season to open my eyes to aspects of his creation that make him weep. But to be very honest, I feel like I haven’t heard God through much of this year. My anxiety about moving, finding a job, getting comfortable in a new job and a new house and a new city — all in the midst of a pandemic — keep me from feeling safe to be in God’s presence. I’m exploring my anger that arises in the midst of stress and anxiety — and unfolding in me is the realization that I’m hesitant to bring my anger and anxiety to God. The Church has always told me (us) that, “God wants to meet you in your broken spaces,” but quickly following this sentiment is advice on “how to fix your brokenness.” It’s left me feeling, in a space of anger or anxiety, that I’m not good enough to approach God. I know logically, this isn’t true of my God, and yet, I think it’s more important than ever to be honest with each other — with myself — about our struggles.
I’m (David) reminding myself this summer to breathe. To breathe in that air that God has given me — whether that’s the breath of his Spirit, or the breath of his Teaching, or Nature itself. I’m working on slowing myself with Breath from him; when I want to take on not just my own problems, but the problems of the world in the midst of a pandemic, I’m stopping to allow myself the space — and Breath — to just be.
As we (David + Liz) think back to our list of “all things 2020,” we recognize God’s ability to hold all the pieces. It’s uncomfortable for me (Liz) to share about my life and not wrap up a reflection with a pretty bow how God is working all things for His glory, how it’ll all work out in the end, how we just have to pray and have faith. There’s honestly a lot that’s not figured out, a lot that still hurts and is hard, so much that feels unanswered — but what comforts us both most right now is knowing that God can hold it all. That doesn’t mean an easy answer, a pithy ending to a brief reflection, and it certainly doesn’t minimize the weight of all that we feel today. But we can both sit, in the midst of a pandemic,
and breathe,
and just be,
holding it all,
knowing God is holding it with us.
Hi! We’re the Mikels: David and Liz. We have two dogs (Piper, 9, and Gertie, 14), and recently moved to Austin, TX. We are both in our early 30s and have known each other more than half our lives; while we weren’t “high school sweethearts” in the traditional sense, we met and dated a bit in high school before going separate ways and continuing friendship until our paths crossed more significantly in college years. We both love craft coffee (David dabbles in roasting), good food + drink, and discussing critically-acclaimed (as well as not-so-acclaimed) movies. Liz also loves decorating cakes and cookies, and David’s a big fan of eating them. We’ve loved getting to be a new addition to the Imago virtual family!