Necessary Good Byes amidst the COVID-19 crisis

Last week in the midst of this COVID-19 crisis, my husband and I said goodbye to an old friend. His name was Sam. He and his brother, Frodo, were rescue dogs we met at an adoption extravaganza at our local pet store. We had no plans of bringing home two dogs. One extra mouth to feed and nurture was plenty. One furry friend would fill the hole that our last dog, Willow, left in our hearts a few years prior.

However, when we met these two and heard their story of being rescued from a farm downstate, we were doomed. We actually had no way of confirming their “Bourne Identity”-like heroic story of Sam and Frodo. Did they really have their paws touching as if holding hands during the high-speed chase away from death to safety? Yes, we took the bait, paid the rescue organization and coaxed them into the backseat of our dark blue 1997 Avalon. We all were headed for unknown adventures.

We have nearly fourteen years of sweet memories.

Miles of doggy walks, exorbitant vet bills, chewed up door trim, and lots of doggy hugs helped paint the landscape of the last several years. As years passed we have had medication bottles lining our counter and makeshift gates to keep our furry friends from consuming holiday dinners. Not too long ago we found Frodo wandering across the street repeatedly, heading over to the neighbors to play. We were baffled at how he was able to maneuver himself out of our fenced-in back yard. Eventually, a missing fence post revealed his route of escape…his secret was exposed. Honestly, I was starting to think he was jumping the fence even though he can barely climb the thirteen stairs of our two-story suburban home.

These two hounds have been sources of great expense and hours of work. Regardless, they have also been a source of many blessings. Coming home to a wagging tail has the power to wash away any difficulty a day at work has to offer. Sadly, now there is only one of our pair left to share our lives. Sam had his last seizure, took his last breath and went to a better place on April 8th. Now, there is one doggy to walk, feed and protect. We are all still grieving. Frodo is a bit lost and Sam’s scent is everywhere. This goodbye was hard, but the rich memories we have makes the cost of our tears worthy beyond measure.

Good-byes don’t always show up on the negative side of the ledger.

With our COVID-19 crisis, I suspect many of us will say goodbye to many things. Things like disappointment we may feel when a beautifully wrapped gift turns out to be a sweet-smelling bottle of hand sanitizer. I for one will no longer complain under my breath that my husband brought home a twelve-pack of toilet paper when my cabinet space only allows for eight. How about those oh-so-easy-negative attitudes? Like when we accidentally get bumped into while waiting in line at our favorite Portillos? Is there anyone else now longing for a handshake, high five or a pat on the back?

I am in the process of saying good-bye to simple things I used to take for granted. For example, a quick trip to the store for cleaning supplies or hot dog buns, face-to-face conversations and hugs from the dear sisters in my women’s group. Also, on a deeper note, I hope to say goodbye to one of my favorite yet worn-out excuses. You see, over the years I have realized I am naturally introverted. Because of this little known fact about myself, I have given myself permission to avoid contact and connection with others.

Yep, by all definitions, I am a card-carrying introvert. As an introvert, I still enjoy and value human interactions, but such interactions drain my energy tank; I feel their cost. Fortunately, that tank is easily refillable, and with no extra charge. I only need to be willing to invest time alone with my Savior. I can refill my soul and my heart by meditating on God’s soothing words and hearing His sweet whispers of instruction. When I allow it, this sacrament re-energizes my soul, and overflows to those around me. Otherwise, I have nothing in me to offer and nothing of value to share. I must fill up before I can pour joy out.

Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, a light on my path. Psalms 119:105

We often must say goodbye to that which we hold dearly, that which we grasp with white-knuckled fists.

Tangible and intangible things that once offered us comfort, solace and a sense of ourselves are no longer here. Or, as in my case, perhaps such things once offered a rational excuse for selfish behavior. Could it be the current “shelter in place” order we live with may offer an opportunity to look deep in the secret place of our souls? If we do that, we may discover that some things hold no real value because they hold no truth. Perhaps such empty things may only turn out to be a “Yoke” we were never meant to carry.

Jesus instructed his followers to take His yoke, “for my yoke is easy and my burden is light” Mathew 11:28-30.

Taking His yoke means we put down ours. God did not design us with the capability of carrying more than one yoke. This design was intentional and is His provision.

Jesus teaching about the various yokes we try to carry ourselves, lead me to these questions.

Which yoke am I willing to carry for the rest of 2020? I am wondering…what are you prepared to say goodbye to? What am I? Let us all have the courage to take this time to make necessary changes, and learn to say necessary goodbyes. Let us unclench our childish fists in order that we can grasp those things of immeasurable worth.

For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do. Ephesians 2:10

Shalom,

Karen