Do what you know to do
(Thank you to Jeremy Law for sharing the wise words of his dad, Mr. Jim Law. It really has stuck with me through this time of uncertainty.)
When You Don’t Know What To Do Robin McWhirter
“When you don’t know what to do…do what you KNOW to do.” This quote was shared by a friend on facebook who was quoting his very wise dad, and these words have been flitting through my heart and mind this week as I lament my inability to help others during this time of virus outbreak throughout our world. The world? Yes, I cannot quite get over the fact that we are ALL facing a common enemy. A relentless, cruel opponent who will seemingly adapt to our every attempt to destroy it. Scientists, doctors, nurses, researchers, plus countless others are working around the clock, quite literally, to combat this virus, Covid-19. To see all of humanity working together towards a common goal is inspiring. But it is also frustrating. I too want to be a part of the solution. I too want to be on the front lines. I too want to play a part in beating this enemy.
I know, I know…save lives, stay at home. I’m not saying this isn’t true. What I am saying is that I want more. I’ve searched deep within myself (I mean what else do I have to do?) to find the reason for this desire. Am I simply an attention seeker? Do I want selfies popping up all over social media showing my “sacrifice”? Do I want others to applaud my fearlessness, my dedication, my faith?
The answer? Sure I do. We all do. Yes, I said that. We all do. We may not always admit it, but we want to be appreciated. We want to be praised. It is a part of human nature, my friends. And it is true of me.
But still. There is more. I really, truly, sincerely, and almost desperately want to help. It is how I’m wired. It is my spiritual gift. It is why I was created. Maybe that’s true for you too.
Yet, here we are almost helpless to help. The quarantine rules, the virus fears, the common sense guidance of churches and organizations have good reason to limit exposure to the few and not open wide the door to every one time do-gooder who wants to mark off “serving with fear and doing it anyway” from the list. But my heart hurts. My church is serving the medical community by offering free childcare while these precious servants go straight onto the battlefield. The daycares are closed; the parents who used to keep their grandchildren are in the danger-zone age range and though willing, truly not able to hold their grand babies. So where do the doctors, the nurses, the paramedics go? They go to First Baptist Woodstock and leave their most prized possessions in the care of loving Believers. Believers who are able and willing to put themselves in the line of fire in order to serve. I want that too. But the truth is this: the church cannot in good conscience or by law allow every member to serve in this capacity. It would not be feasible or possible to keep the virus contained were one of these people to be exposed. It would be a wildfire. A wildfire caused by those who were only trying to help. I get it. I do. But I want to be there.
Local food banks are distributing food. I called. I emailed. I text messaged. Everywhere is the same. The rules we are playing by are new. They are strict. They are wise. But in the end, I’m in the same situation. I want to be there. I can’t.
Then there are more personal battles. My dear friend, Erin, is going to undergo brain surgery tomorrow morning. In the midst of all this crazy, this wife and mother and daughter of elderly parents has no choice but to enter the hospital all alone for a terrifying procedure which she may or may not survive. Did you get that? Alone. When the fear of the unknown presses in, she will not have the comforting hand of her husband. She will not wake to the smiles of her
children. Alone. What can I NOT do? I can’t care for her children. I can’t clean her home for her. I can’t prepare her meals and go visit her in the hospital. I can’t be there, but I want to.
My parents are in their 80s. My dad has COPD. My parents have multiple health concerns which make them extreme risks to this deadly virus. I try to limit my exposure so that I can help care for them. But what are they doing? Going to the hairdresser. Going to Bojangles. Going to the bank. Why, you might ask would they do that? The answer is…I have no idea! We, the family, are committed to helping them. They know this! I cannot control my parents. Unless I take my Dad’s keys… maybe hide the truck…Well, you get my point. Stubborn. That’s what they are. Sweet, kind, loving, they are all that too but a double dose of stubborn. I can’t protect them from this virus. I can’t protect them from themselves. But I want to.
My children. Oh, they’re healthy and doing just fine at home. In fact, in ways they are thriving. Still, as I look at the colorful reminders on the kitchen calendar and get phone reminders of all the canceled events, I am sad. The places we didn’t go, the events that didn’t happen, the people we didn’t get to see…it’s not a tragedy, but it’s something. I watched the disappointment fill my son’s eyes as his long anticipated trip to Paris had to be canceled. Postponed maybe, but it could be a long wait. My youngest son, a college freshman, had to unceremoniously leave his dorm, no fanfare, no goodbyes. I think that’s the hardest part. No goodbyes. Things ended without a proper end. This is not how it was supposed to be. There should have been late night study sessions and laughter. Stressing out together and then celebrating when the crazy hard physics test was over. But no. Life took a turn we didn’t anticipate.
My daughter. She watched as one right after another events were canceled; prom, mission trip, long awaited concerts, camp, spring break. What about the memories that were to be made? What about that?
My oldest doesn’t live at home. He’s not far away, yet during this virus…if you are not in the same home, you might as well be a world away. I missed seeing him on his birthday. That was a first. Most firsts are exciting things – first kiss, first dance, first date, first flight. But not this. This was not a first I ever wanted to experience. But I did.
Then there is just me, just my stuff. I miss my Sunday school students. I miss teaching my handwriting students at our homeschool coop. I miss my friends. I do. I miss hugs. I miss shaking hands or high-fiving the friendly greeters in my church. I miss smiles. Even when I go out for the rare grocery run, you can’t see smiles behind the protective masks. I miss human contact. I do have my family, and I am blessed to be quarantined with people. But what of those who are alone? My heart hurts.
So that leads me back to the beginning of my thoughts. More than ever before, in these last few weeks, I can say, “I don’t know what to do.” But I want to know. I want to take the words of Mr. Jim Law to heart. “When you don’t know what to do, do what you KNOW to do.”
While it is true that I cannot volunteer in person to help the medical community, I can volunteer to send snacks. And I did.
I can’t go in person to the food banks to hand out food. What I can do is donate financially to help them supply the community with much needed supplies. I can text and call to make sure they know they are appreciated. And I did.
My friend undergoing surgery will be alone. I cannot be there. But I can send a card, make a call, order food for the family, and pray. Above all, pray. And I will.
While I could hide the keys to the truck, I probably shouldn’t…no promises if my parents continue in their willful ways…I can do what I’m doing. I can patiently answer the phone many, many times a day just so they can hear my voice and know they are not alone. I can help with the groceries even though they will probably go get some forgotten item anyway. I can don gloves and mask and wash my mama’s hair because her hair dresser is unable to continue
operating and my sweet mama cannot lift her hands above her head to do the job herself. I can and I will.
I cannot force this virus away so that my children do not miss, what to me…and to them…are once in a lifetime opportunities to make memories. However, I can enjoy every, single day in this new world. A new world that feels very much like an old world. Does anyone else feel like you have gone back in time? If my oldest were here at home, it would definitely feel like time travel back to a simpler time; a time when my people have nowhere else to go but home and no one else to be with except each other. It’s not all bad. Truly it is not. In fact, it is some kind of wonderful. Distractions are limited. Time is endless. We laugh and play and argue (let’s just be honest here). But we do it all together. And isn’t that what memories are all about?
And as for me, well I have found new ways of connecting to people. I’ve learned, with a lot of time and patience from my tech-savvy kids, to make youtube videos for my students. I’ve learned to attend zoom meetings with my Sunday school class and my small group ladies. I’m writing more. I’m crocheting. I’m reading. I’m walking by the creek.I’m remembering why I loved learning new recipes and enjoy cooking once again. Because let’s face it…in this current environment, food has drastically climbed the list as the most enjoyable “plan” of the day! Most importantly, I am connecting in a more meaningful way to my God. Life can shift and change; viruses can rage and bring fear. But God…Oh how I’ve always loved those words. But God will use even this to grow me, to stretch me, to better me. He’ll do that for you to, if you let Him.
I long to be useful. I long to be needed. And you know what? The more I allow God to open my eyes, the more needs I see. How often to I search and stretch and stamp my foot impatiently to reach for goals that are not mine to meet? How many needs have I missed because I had my eyes on someone else’s prize? Let that not be true in my life.
My life is full. It is full of blessings, yes, but that is not the full I’m speaking of right now. It is full of people who are full of needs that I am uniquely situated to meet. That’s right. God has fitted ME to meet the needs of those in my circle. Maybe I need to widen that circle, but the point is that it is my circle and not yours that I am to serve. The harvest is plentiful, but the workers are few. May my focus be God-centered. There are needs a plenty, and I have what it takes to meet the needs of those He has graciously put in my life. I don’t need to wait for the church or the government to meet the needs I myself can meet. So while I may not know what to do all the time; I can do what I know to do. May it be said of me, “She did.”
By: Robin