I’m so afraid.
Is that the light at the far end of the tunnel
or just a train?

That’s a quote from the Owl City song “Tidal Wave,” and it pretty well sums up where I’m at right now.

My home state of Arkansas is starting to open back up. We’re not the first in line, but we’re certainly one of the earliest to do so. Starting this week, people are going to be dining in at restaurants again. We had church in person this past Sunday (including lots of jokes about how goofy our masks looked). We are all beyond ready to get back to normal.

I have to admit that being around people again felt good. It left we wishing we could be together all the time, like before. I’m not immune to letting my emotional need for connection overcome my better judgment. I want this to end, too.

But that’s the problem: It’s not over. And giving in to the (understandable) temptation to act like it is won’t change that. In fact, it has the potential to make things much worse and undo the many weeks of sacrifice that have already been made.

We can’t afford that.

I told myself that I was going to get back to my regular writing schedule this week. I wanted to give you something more akin to my usual writing. “Enough is enough,” I said. “It’s time to get over it.”

But I’m not over it. Because it’s not over. There’s still an underlying sense of dread that washes over me every time I go into a public place. Katherine is back at her job teaching preschoolers as I’m typing this, and the possibility of her being exposed worries me every day. I want desperately to get back to a normal schedule, to a calmer mental space, to the way things were. But I’m just not there yet, because the world isn’t there yet.

I understand that neverending isolation is not sustainable. I’m glad that, at least where I live, things are reopening in stages and most people are trying to be careful. I’m extremely proud of how well my church stuck to our safety guidelines this weekend. That’s commendable, to be sure. But I worry that once we get a taste of normalcy, our desire for it might take over, and we might let our emotions get the best of us.

We all want to get back to normal, but we cannot rush it. Slowly but surely, progress is being made. But any misstep could be disastrous and send us back to the starting point. There’s a light at the end of this dreadful tunnel, and we’re starting to get a glimpse of it. But we have to be patient as we move towards it, lest we find it to be a train headed our way.

Please, let’s continue to be careful. And let’s be graceful with ourselves when we find that we’re still grappling with the emotional turmoil this pandemic has caused. It’s not over, so we can’t put too much pressure on ourselves to simply get over it.

Let’s see each other through this, friends. I’m here if you need anything. I’ll try to be back next week with something for you if I’m able; if not, I hope you’ll understand.