At the beginning of this pandemic and shelter in place, it seemed that the instruction was to stay still, isolate, put everything on hold, and do what we can to stay safe. I felt the instruction was to be a turtle hiding in my shell, waiting for danger to pass. The strategy worked fine in perhaps the first month. Boredom and loneliness were the top concerns for many, including me. Enter extreme social and political unrest and the heightened stakes of the upcoming election, and well, being a hiding turtle has begun to feel like a privilege. There are real issues in the world, and I can't help but feel irresponsible with a twinge of selfishness for staying home and being consumed by work and my immediate family life. Nowadays, boredom and loneliness are the least of my worries. The world has become a buffet feeding our fears and our anxieties by the plateful. I constantly find myself having to renew a commitment to limit exposure to the news, "social" media, and the ever-unproductive and triggering comment sections.
In this time of such uncertainty and change, I've asked myself where I might fit and who I may be called to be. I believe I have an answer, though it may be an uncomfortable one. With background and training in conflict resolution, mediation, sociology, and education, I feel that time is ripe for work to be done, for stories to be shared, for us to build upon our listening and empathy skills, and learn how to be one human community. Sounds like a good mission on paper, but daily life duties, crippling self-doubt, and fear come in the way regularly. Add on the fact that studying social sciences doesn't actually make you an expert at social situations, and I confirm with myself that I'm inept at delivering value to others. I find myself clinging to what I know: work and taking care of my home and family duties.
I told my husband about my struggle— that every day, life feels like I'm on a fast subway train. It stops only for moments at each stop, and at every stop, I'm looking for a small child in a sea of people. I know what the child looks like, but I'm afraid to jump off the train car to go in search of her. The train affords comfort and stability— a clear routine. Jumping off the train to find this child can result in me missing my train altogether or getting lost. It's easier to stay on the train— go about my daily business and say I'm too busy to answer her call. That's how I feel God's voice is during this time— the call of a lost child in the middle of a busy subway station. There's chaos and uncertainty in the world. There are some gifts I am aware I have, but I'm having trouble leaping onto the platform into the unknown to put those gifts into action.
Perhaps though, that's where the key lies: in recognizing the gifts we are given as what they are: gifts. Gifts are not given to be doubted, hidden away, ignored, or treated as something to feel embarrassed or guilty for having. And yet, I find myself treating gifts from God in this manner. I can't count how many times I have chosen to stay on my fast train and ignore the child's call, stop after stop, opportunity after opportunity.
We have an opportunity right now. To listen, to respond, to participate, (to vote) in this great life experiment of learning how to love and become one human community. Sitting idle on a fast train afraid of each busy and unfamiliar station or being a turtle hiding in its shell waiting for danger to pass no longer seem like viable or sustainable options in our current world. Because becoming a more loving, empathetic, peaceful community requires that we recognize and remember our gifts, listen for how they may be needed, and respond to the call, no matter how uncertain stepping onto that subway platform may be. Maybe "the call" I am to answer is asking me to step off this train of self-determination, self-reliance, and disengagement. After all, Jesus never said, "Care for yourself and your progress alone." If God is sure of our gifts and our inherent value, perhaps I must be sure, too. Each one of us is needed to build community, to build understanding, and to build peace in our world. Maybe we don't have to answer to everyone on that subway platform— all the issues tugging at our anxiety. Perhaps if we focus on that tiny voice calling our name amid all the noise— focus on that child in each of us that knows how we can best bring God's love into the world, we can find God's purpose for us.
Krystelle Robeniol Bunyi