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Lather, Rinse, Repeat

Wow, do I suck at writing with any sort of regularity! Nine months have passed since my last entry. Every day is still Groundhog Day. Covid continues to ravage the US, in part because of a lack of organized federal response last year and in part because too many Americans don't believe in science and are too selfish/self centered to sacrifice a bit of normalcy for the greater good. Over 420,000 Americans have lost their lives to Covid 19 in the last year--we've exceeded the point of a 9/11 or Pearl Harbor happening every day and people are still refusing to abide by mask mandates. It infuriates me.

I'd love to tell you that I've been following my own advice from my last post and handled the last 10 months like champ. You expect the pastor to practice what she preaches, don't you? But we all know that reality is complicated and the last nine months have felt like years to many of us. Since I was already in a foul mood on Tuesday, I finally got on the scale and confronted that I was halfway to my delivery weight with my youngest. I probably would have noticed sooner if I was wearing anything other than stretchy pants, but even my jeans have elastic waists right now, and like the middle aged suburban mom I am, I'm not sure I'm ever going back to button flies. I guess tracking food intake and exercise is another way to pass the time in quarantine.

I know I'm one of the lucky ones. I still have a job and an income. I obviously have enough food to eat. And yet, there is discontent in my soul. I return to Psalm 13:1 and ask God on behalf of all of us, "How Long, O Lord? Will you forget me (us) forever? How long will you hide your face from me (us)? How long must I (we) wrestle with my (our) thoughts and every day have sorrow in my (our) heart?" How long until the vaccine is readily available (my state is ranked dead last in distribution right now)? How long until herd immunity is achieved? How long until I can hug a family member who doesn't live in my home without fear of infecting or killing one of us? How much of this new virtual life will be maintained when it is finally safe to gather? How much will be shed like a straightjacket of a snake skin?

Nine months later I'm still asking the question, "How long, O Lord?"

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