“People are making banana bread because of a virus.” That's when it hit me. I was listening to a podcast my editorial manager recommended while I was in the car. It was still Monday, but not any ordinary Monday. Today was the first day of online classes because TCU decided to cancel the rest of the semester due to COVID-19. We would be coming back from an extended spring break via the digital communication platform, Zoom, which is probably making loads of money right now. So, to stay positive and hopeful amid reality, I decided to bake some banana bread. I set the alarm for 7:30 am even though I wouldn't be going anywhere. Nevertheless, I wrote out a list because that's what I do when I'm stressed — I plan. I rolled out of bed to warm the oven to 375 degrees and then got to work. I chopped up the bananas and walnuts, melted the butter, and whisked the sweet ingredients together during a somewhat bitter time in our world. My roommate wasn't going to be able to attend her senior graduation in May. Businesses were struggling to pay their workers. Cases of the virus were on the rise, and people were dying. Our president warned us that the next weeks ahead were going to be when this crisis is expected to peak. I remember the sweet smell of buttery banana bread that filled the room. Baking banana bread was the right choice. ![]() The special seven-minute podcast my manager sent me was a perspective of what's going on in the world that I didn't tap into until I was in my car. I was in Belize during my spring break and intentionally "unplugged" to focus all my efforts on the mission trip. I still remember the moment I flicked the switch on my wifi to green; emails and notifications flooded in, and all the bings going off informed me with dire headlines of this novel coronavirus. Before the trip, I (sadly) remember thinking, it's in China. We are fine. That was no longer the case. I was coming home to a different world, and I didn't know what to expect. When TCU announced the news, I moved into the house I'd live in next year, a little early. My lease wouldn't start till June, but my roommate was gracious to open up her space for my sake, but also her's — all of us need community, and social distancing made that hard. The people I started talking to were not bounded by locational borders anymore because these new circumstances made that a universal dilemma. Usually, we hang out with our classmates because we see them at school each day, our roommates because we live with them, and our friends because they're only a five-minute drive away. However, with all being home-bound, our digital communication platforms allowed us to talk to anyone and everyone. I found myself talking to my family frequently, even though they live over 2,000 miles away from me. Those boundaries set by locational borders diminished. “Close your eyes and lay in Shavasana as if you have nothing to do and no place to go.” Liesel and I lay on our mats in the little yoga sanctuary we created in our sunroom; our eyes met in creepy awe when our yoga instructor said this because it was as if she knew we were living in a pandemic. “Shavasana” is a corpse pose that serves as relaxation, and a signal of the death of a practice. Usually, Liesel and I go to Corepower Yoga, a studio five minutes away from TCU. When we move into Shavasana, we know the class is about to end; the instructor would take this time to somehow wrap up with a message we can walk out with. Usually, this message has something to do with slowing down. It’s so difficult to slow down in a society that brands busyness as the top-notch trend and “normal” in our culture. However, here we are with a new circumstance — a pandemic. This unique circumstance doesn’t encourage us to slow down as a yoga instructor does; COVID-19 has us locked down in our homes because it is vital to the safety and saving of our world. The advice we hear all the time as an ideal reality has now become a forced message by the government. “Slowing down” is no longer a healthy, personal goal of yours; it’s a command directed by the President and medical professionals to keep others healthy. When I was in Belize, I missed a lot of things — especially the kids I babysit. I was so excited to get back on Sunday because Elliot would be turning six years old that day. There was nothing that was going to get in my way of attending his sixth birthday party…or so I thought. Visiting him a week later and listening to his positivity was the cutest. Elliot’s words brought to light the innocence that little ones can bring in the darkest times. Mom had to cancel my birthday party because of the coronavirus, but I still got to eat cake with my family. We have to wash our hands a lot and school is closed and we can’t go out because we need to be safe and keep others safe." If only everyone listened to these measures as Elliot did. Even though TCU students weren’t coming back to school, our chancellor decided to continue our education via Zoom to keep us on track with graduation. Welcome to class, please mute your mic when you get on…welcome to class, please mute… I listened to my diversity professor repeat this statement over and over again as I watched my classmates pop up on my computer screen. It was a “new normal” (no longer a new term) we would have to get used to, and it was going to present new challenges. However, I wasn’t bitter because this very decision of continuing our academia shows one of the many admirable things about TCU: the institution wasn’t giving up on us; they were staying hopeful and accommodating our needs to be successful. ![]() As an RA, returning to my room to pick up my belongings was strange. The halls of the dorm were empty, and I realized that what made me an RA was not my role, but the people I served. I couldn’t call myself an RA without doing the service of loving my residents, and I couldn’t do that because they weren’t here. I found myself reaching out to my residents even more than I usually do when they are present (sorry TCU Housing, don’t fire me…wait). Instead of moping about how my RA role came to an end, I focused on what I could. Thanks to technology, this is possible — check in with those you love. My friend, Erin, sent myself and another friend this image that explained what we could do during this time: In a time like this, I believe the greatest thing we need is our church. It’s a place of community that brims with excitement in this truth of salvation. With churches closed, a couple friends and I got together for a small church service via live stream. That Sunday morning, our pastor gave a sermon that served important enough to halt our current series we were going through. He reminded us that while a church is a community and a safe place, it is also a place without borders… a people that aren’t bounded by walls because we have Jesus. Multiple meanings, and ways the Bible explains inconsistencies in “operational definitions,” are fun. I found these connections in my quiet times spent with the Lord: ![]() It can be so easy to think of church as an institution, but Paul reminds us that a church doesn’t require walls because it’s a body of Christ — a people. And just like how a church is a people and not an institution, the Gospel is both words and a reality. How? Because of love; God’s love for us was shown in scripture through a person named Jesus Christ. The reality that we get to live in doesn’t require anything that we don’t have. We have everything we need: love and people. It’s crazy to think about how we go about our days always needing things — eggs, iPhones, the latest spring collection of our favorite clothing brands …I’ll even go as far to say toilet paper (I’m on a roll, and could go on forever). However, the reality is that we have everything we need; it’s written in Scripture and written in our hearts (Romans 2:15). Whether you are religious or not, I’m sorry if people have taught you religion — that you have to “finish the work.” If there’s anything that we all need right now, it’s the reality. This reality is that yes, we are in a pandemic, but also that the work is already finished. Our wages we have been taken care of. Rest in that truth because there are so many ways to approach this deadly virus and holding on to this truth is a pretty good start. I was talking to my friend Liesel, and we went on a tangent that somehow connected COVID-19 to the Gospel (if you knew our conversations, you wouldn’t be surprised; it’s usually a combo of nutrition and, well now — Tiger King). The connection that bridged this pandemic and the Gospel was a balance, one of hope and honesty. Our world, and the people in it, is hurting right now. We are trying to hold on to hope as the virus spreads, the mortality rate increases, and the economy plunges. However, we must also be realistic about what is happening in the world. From a medical and factual standpoint, this curve we are trying to flatten is doing the opposite. New York is running rampant on the corona, and hundreds of Americans are dying each day from the disease. Over 100,000 people in the US have tested positive for COVID-19, and that’s only those who have been tested. If we social distance as we are told to, the US can potentially keep the number of deaths down to 100,000-240,000 over the course of the pandemic. While it’s important to stay hopeful more than ever in this time, we must also be realistic — the 15-day plan is not appropriate for a virus like this, nor is this “better by Easter” statement made by the President. Of course, we would love if this were the case, but we can’t let hope inflate our common sense to do the right thing, which is to lockdown. So, what do we do with this reality? Although the South Korean approach would be ideal, we are far past that, and don’t have the resources or means to trace back every single person who was infected. However, we aren’t Italy either, so let’s not get there. Our President talks about how we Americans aren’t meant to be collective because our individualist selves are too set in the American dream of working our way to the top. Here’s the thing: there is no American dream with where our country is heading. This time calls for all hands on deck…six feet apart of course (please excuse my ironic figurative language). We may not have been collective before, but these circumstances have brought us to this very necessity to salvage our world. Listen to the efforts put out to keep you, and others, healthy and safe. Quarantine at home. Only go out for necessities. We need a travel ban. As long as traveling is happening, the virus continues to spread. Stay hopeful but realistic — not only in the reality of the pandemic, but also the reality of the truth that God promises us. We will get through this, but the only way out is together. This balance of hope and honesty (reality) is represented in the Gospel. The Gospel is this truth and reality that we hold on to, but also fall from every day. We know this truth that we are God’s children who are saved and loved and promised eternity. Holding on to this reality, we go about life hopeful. Because we are God’s children, He won’t let us fall alone. But another reality involves our inherent sin within us. We fall from grace, only to remind ourselves that grace is a gift — given to us 2,000 years ago, and every single day since. Jesus paid the price. While he’s not asking us to save ourselves, he’s asking us to repent by confessing our sins and letting known the truth.
This pandemic is a balance of being hopeful that we won’t get the virus and that our world will recover. However, just like how everyday we mess up and sin, each day, our world is changing corona-related. We must take in that information and share it in a way that is informing others and preparing people to best combat it. It is a tough time to be leaders in this world because they have a lot of responsibility. Either way, they are going to get backlash. They must balance this hope to help their people stay afloat, but also stay aware of the current and changing reality. Give them grace as He gave to you. We must take each day as it comes like how we walk in faith each day — messing up and then confessing our sins and repenting in honesty to the Lord. Struggles and breakthroughs, failures and victories, we take them all. Yeah, that’s my banana bread spiel. If you didn’t notice, I have still yet to talk about what the podcast included. That’s your job. Trust me; you’ll want to listen to it amid all the rest of the news your taking in.
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