FAITH and ICE CREAM
Was anybody else standing in their kitchen at 12 am, eating a bowl of vanilla ice cream that was slowly turning orange, brown and yellow from Reese’s Pieces melting into it? I pondered the question for a few minutes while eating in the dark, with only the small night light next to the sink providing enough dim light to see. Who else was up this night, exhausted from a long shift on the front lines of this hellish pandemic? Who else missed dinner, or just needed something cool and comforting to eat while their thoughts rolled around? Who else was losing faith?
Surely I was not the only one.
An ambulance siren broke in and reminded me that the front line never closes and that while it may not be ice cream in a dark kitchen, others were up and eating something to get through their shift. In all of my conversations with EMTs and ER docs and nurses this week, I knew that whatever was being eaten, it was on the fly and most definitely not healthy.
Thank God pandemic calories don’t count.
I kept eating in the dark.
It was so still, so silent and the only moment of real relief in hours. The phone wasn’t ringing, I wasn’t making decisions about who to send to the hospital or how to run a mental health residential program in a way that would not sacrifice psychiatric health for physical. The stillness gave me freedom and space that doesn’t exist during the day. Space to cry. Space to relax my shoulders.
Space to be.
Space to pray.
PPE and COVID19
God, I really need some PPE, I prayed. I know you get that this is not typically part of my daily ask but if you could send some angels with gloves and masks and gowns, that would really help. And while you’re at it, maybe some extra faith. We do not have an immunization for COVID19 just yet but how about a shot of faith? That would be just as helpful.
As usual, He listened. A few days later some supplies arrived. A rhythm was found. Faith was boosted. And ice cream was on sale.
Be still and know.
Be still and know that I am God.