Last Saturday my squad and I drove home from doing disaster relief ministry in Lake Charles, Louisiana. A few days later and half my squad was quarantined because they were showing covid symptoms. The same day we all got tested and 15 out of 32 of us ended up being positive.

Now my squad is split up in three different places and I get to call a little house on a hill home (I’m in the healthy house THANKS GOD). I say “get to” live in this little home not “have to” because I’ve watched this confusing and hard and really sad situation become rest and fullness and provision right before my very eyes.

I’ve watched the random nine people that ended up in this home learn to have family dinners and turkey hand craft nights and jump in leaf piles together and love each other in every way we know how.

I’ve watched my squad have the most joyful and uplifting and heaven bringing worship session over a zoom call.   

I’ve seen the endless amount of free time we have be filled with the Holy Spirit and edifying conversations and stepping into new passions that we wouldn’t have made space for if our schedules looked “normal.”

I’ve seen another squad on campus love us extremely well by randomly showing up in our backyard late one night to have a spontaneous, socially distanced worship session and pray over the health and homes we are quarantined in.

Covid-19, yet again you tried to steal our expectations and hopes, and yet again you’ve only left the Lord with an even greater capacity to fill our lives; yet again you tried to estrange my squad with lack of unity, and yet again you’ve only fed the fervency we carry to be one vessel again.

It doesn’t matter how long you threaten to be in our lives, you will never be the ruler of our hearts and minds. Only Abba is fit to be the king upon that throne. 

We forever refuse to miss the miracle in the making.

I hope you demand not to miss it either.