We are all in a waiting room

COVID-19...pandemic...social distancing...words
that were new to many of us just a few weeks ago. 
Some of us have found ourselves physically alone and a lot of parents are probably wishing they could trade places for even a few minutes. 
My head hurts with information overload; my body already aches for human touch and honestly, from underlying stress. 
We are in a waiting room, all of us! 
I’ve been here three other times in the past six years and I’m still standing. Actually, I’ve grown a little taller and a lot stronger. 
Yesterday, I allowed myself one day of paralysis. (Well, except for performing some surgery on my refrigerator.)
Today, Operation Waiting Room is in full motion. 

Breathe-inhale hope, exhale “what if.”
Pray-at all times, including when I wash my hands. I have posted lists above each faucet. 
Move-short breaks to walk, bike and dance off stress and anxiety.  
Music-something new, something old; turn up the volume, lower it to a whisper.  
Read-escape with a good book, sink my soul into the Word. 
Serve-erase the temptation to make this about me.  
Scratch-in the dark. Finding something meaningful in which I can pour my uneasy self.  I write when I cannot process uncertainty; my friend gardens. 

You will have your own arsenal, but have one!  
I want to write more about my list in separate posts, but I want to close with two thoughts. 
First, I sense a time of revival. People are talking with God more often, people are searching, Easter people are stepping up to this crisis. If we quiet our souls and listen, we’ll hear from Him. What a Lenten period. 
Secondly, I will allow only a few minutes a day for sulking. No more! When Rob and I received the fatal news of pancreatic cancer we allowed ourselves only one pity party a day. We realized we were given the gift of precious time; we used it to speak love and encouragement into one another. Best advice ever given us!