A Different Kind of Fatigue-- Carolyn R. Wilker

 

 

I read an article this week about fatigue. Not the physical sort where one works too long and gets exhausted, or the kind where people struggle with chronic illness. This kind of fatigue deals with the kind of watchfulness and care we’ve been carrying around since early March. 

Think of a life guard charged with the careful watching of a pool full of gleeful people splashing around—children and their parents—and the eagle eyes the life guards must have. And the break they need once people are out of the pool. This kind of watchfulness, albeit, is a different kind than we have been practising, with little relief in sight. Add to that the many reports of where the virus pops up and where the curve is flattening and the potential of a vaccine being developed.

I see all this and have to dial down the news but not dismiss it completely.

Situational awareness, as described this week by Globe and Mail writer Jillian Horton, refers to this kind of watchfulness since the pandemic was first declared. Not just in one country, but in countries all over the globe, including us. People are getting tired of doing it, but that doesn’t mean it’s time to stop.

The CERB benefit has helped many people, including some members in our family. Some companies offered delays in payment of certain bills, others offered free resources to help anyone in those positions, and that was good when we all needed to stay safe and limit our coming and going to only those things that were entirely necessary.

For people with continuing jobs, working from home, we had the reassurance of knowing we could pay our bills. We could buy groceries and necessary prescriptions. 

Jesus fed people, he healed them and brought comfort to many in distressing situations.  What can we do when so many are hurting?

For companies aching to get back on their feet at a critical time, it has to be hard financially, and for those companies that closed, an even harsher reality. Supporting local business, including restaurants with take-out food, is one thing we can do, where we have the means. 

In our extended family, we had two deaths in early July within 24 hours of each other (not by Covid, but still painful). One family decided on a donation to the Food Bank of their community; that was a place we could make a contribution. 

 

Our resources may be limited, financially, or our physical energy limited. We can exercise good judgement, do our best to keep up the practice of physical distancing, wash our hands, and wear our masks out in public, where distancing is not possible. And maybe that’s all you can do.

All this is essentially the commandment to love others as we love ourselves. Be well, stay safe, and help where you are able. And maybe for some, it's a 'listening ear' or something fresh from our

garden.

Light for the Journey

Today I reach into the 'grab-bag' from ‘ancient history,' abbreviated and adapted from one of my column articles from twenty years ago.

The newlyweds were embarking on their life together. It was November, '66. Their wedding ceremony was hours past and they’d left their guests at the reception venue. They didn’t own a car, but now, snug in a rented Austin Mini, they headed towards their honeymoon hotel destination, about an hour and a half’s drive to the West Coast of Scotland.

'66 Austin Mini. Credit: CarGurus.

Same model & colour, but without 

"Just Married" signs and streamers

Despite the late November night’s sleet and snow the little mini – still bedecked with Just Married signs and other hoopla – hugged the road well. Leaving city traffic behind, the couple soon passed through the suburbs, and before long the city lights were far behind.

The road was quiet, and they zoomed nicely along the country roads, negotiating numerous twists and turns. But it wasn’t long before dazzling lights of an oncoming vehicle met them on a bend in a heavily wooded area, and the groom, who was driving, switched to the dimmed lights. Blackout – no lights at all! Total darkness, except for the dazzle spots temporarily burned into his vision from the vehicle that had just passed them.

He tried to concentrate on the road ahead, and struggled to keep on course in the darkness as he switched back to the full beams. Mercifully, the couple reached their destination in safety. Apparently, a problem with the electrical system of the car meant that whenever the dimmer switch was operated, every light went out. Well, the couple is still together, and you won’t need twenty guesses as to who they are.

 Signing her life away! Good ol' B&W photography, eh. 

It’s very difficult to find one’s way in the dark without a source of light – especially when caught by surprise, as we were. Likewise, as we find our way through life, on and into the uncharted territory of a new year, it is a whole lot easier when we have a source of light and are properly prepared. 

I knew very little about cars at that time. If I’d checked the car’s systems out earlier I would have discovered that problem. We were young then, but are now more cautious about preparing.

How important to prepare for our journey through life, and for our exit from it. The psalmist, in Psalm 27 wrote, The Lord is my light and my salvation . . . The Lord is the strength of my life. And, in Psalm 25:9-10  He guides the humble in what is right and teaches them his way.  10  All the ways of the LORD are loving and faithful for those who keep the demands of his covenant.

While the year is still quite young, let us open up our hearts and minds in humility to the Holy Spirit, and let the Scriptures speak to our hearts, trusting the grace of God to help us safely negotiate the bends in the road of life, with the Lord Jesus Christ as our companion, who lights up our life – even if the lights should go out.

~~~
The original edition was published as a newspaper column article in January, 1999
~~+~~
Peter is a retired pastor – well, sort of retired – as he is currently engaged as an associate volunteer pastor. He lives in Southwestern Ontario with his wife, May, and writes a weekly inspirational newspaper column and occasional magazine articles. Peter is author of two books: "Parables from the Pond" (Word Alive Press) and "Raise Your Gaze . . . Mindful Musings of a Grateful Heart" (Angel Hope Publishing). He and May are also engaged in leading nursing home / residential chapel services and music. ~+~