From Darrell's Desk
By Rev. Darrell Maguire
Words seem to be failing me of late, as I try to describe my emotional state as this pandemic draws on. I have now been, since January 2020, in some measure of lockdown or isolation, given my own health crisis in 2020. Coupled with this is the reality that as a community and church family we are trying to figure out how we can safely meet again, let alone try and get on with some mission and ministry to our community. How does one describe this feeling of uncertainty? The best I could come up with was an illustration from my own experience.
Many years ago, when we lived at the farm in Selkirk, I served on the Haldimand-Norfolk tourism committee. On one fateful night in the fall of the year, I had a meeting in Port Dover. The meeting was uneventful, but the moment I crested the hill just north of Dover on Highway 6, I ran smack dab into the thickest fog I have ever seen before or since. The fog was so thick I could barely see beyond the front of my vehicle. It was terrifying to say the least. What was I to do?
Well, I did what most people would do: I slowed right down and I even went so far as to roll my windows down so I could hear if another vehicle was approaching. Slowly I crept north to the Nanticoke Parkway, then onto Regional Road 3, and finally onto the Lakeshore Road on which we lived. A trip that should have taken 20 minutes took almost 2 hours, with Laura at home getting more and more worried.
It was a white-knuckle drive for sure. Every worst-case scenario I could conceive ran through my mind, even my concern for deer crossing the road and not being able to see them. Fortunately, I encountered no other vehicles, nor any deer, and I eventually made it home. It did, however, raise question. Why was I able to make it home in the midst of this terrible fog?
The best answer I can come up with is familiarity. Even though I had to drive very slowly, I had been along this route dozens of times. I knew what roads to take, and what landmarks (if I could see them) that marked my trek. Even though the journey was rough, and frankly quite frightening, I rested in the assurance that the route was familiar. I imagined how terrifying it would be if I had never driven those roads before. I imagined pulling over somewhere and sleeping through it, but had no way to call Laura to tell her I was alright. This was before cell phones were everywhere. Familiarity was a great comfort that night, as it is in so many circumstances of life. “Been there, done that” as we are apt to say.
I guess I feel like I am in that fog gain, going through this pandemic. I cannot see very far ahead and I am not sure what dangers or uncertainties lie in the mist. There are even times where I get a metaphorical white-knuckle grip on my emotions. So, applying the lesson of the drive in the fog, we could conclude that one of the best ways to cope with this collective circumstance of the pandemic is to draw strength from the familiar. To remember the paths we travelled before when uncertainty loomed. To remember how we looked for the signposts to guide us through.
To grasp the comforting words of the scriptures to give us confidence even in the storm-tossed seas. “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me”, the Apostle Paul wrote. Not some things, not most things, but ALL THINGS! This includes these uncertain days, no matter how long they persist. God has brought us through before. And no matter how long we must endure restrictions, we will make it through to destinations God has prepared for us.
