Disorientation
I don’t know about you, but I’ve found myself feeling unmoored and disoriented the past few weeks during the COVID-19 pandemic. All of us have been living on shifting sands, our normal routines disrupted; those things we take for granted—freedom of movement, freedom of assembly, and freedom from fear of an invisible enemy—all swept out from under us. We need an antidote to panic!
At the beginning of this crisis, with everything shutting down and the economy plummeting, anxiety kidnapped me. I couldn’t think clearly; my brain seemed to liquify into a pile of mush. I couldn’t remember anything to save my life. I honestly found it hard to put together a coherent sentence, much less make decisions. These are symptoms of extreme stress. Our body goes into fight or flight mode, and all of the blood rushes from our brains to our extremities, giving them power to take off and run.
I’ve experienced these symptoms before, 30-plus years ago when we were trying to figure out why Joel wasn’t developing properly; when we were going through years of testing; when adolescence collided with autism and blew up in our faces. I am sure that each one of you has experienced times of extreme stress as you’ve journeyed with your child’s disability. Perhaps today the stress of being cooped up in the house with your family has you tied up in knots, not able to think clearly.
Crying Out for Help
Then, as now, I cried out to God. Deliver me, Lord, from these fears of the unknown! Deliver me, Lord, from the chaos in my brain! Deliver me, Lord, from this sense of helplessness and hopelessness!
When I cry out to the Lord, telling him I’m helpless without him, he always answers in some way, shape, or form. Sometimes with a call from a friend, a letter in the mailbox, a song on the radio, or a timely sermon or book. This time, during the midst of my panic over the pandemic, God whispered to me: Kathy, your brain is tired. It’s time to give it a rest.
Listening to the Lord’s Answer to Our Cries
I listen to the Lord when He speaks. I’ve been giving my brain a rest as I take walks with my husband in the state park up the street; as I sit in my prayer chair and watch a blackbird make a nest in a hole in the maple tree just outside the window; as I call old friends and catch up on the news of their families; as I write letters to friends who live across the country and world; and as I read through the Psalms. I particularly love The Voice and The Passion translations. They speak to me in my own language, which is the language of poetry.
I’ve been spending a lot of time in the 23rd Psalm, that old standby that we tend to take for granted. No other psalm gives me as much comfort as this one. I decided to write my own paraphrase. It goes like this:
Psalm 23
Source: Special Needs Parenting- Key Ministry
