Teach Us to Number Our Days

Pastor Ben Stuart said in a sermon last year, "Ambiguity breeds anxiety."

I don't know how the COVID-19 crisis has impacted you personally, but one of the words I keep hearing from friends is how anxious they have become, or how much the uncertainty of all of this is wearing on them.

But what I've been pondering is whether or not it would actually be helpful to our emotions if we had the end-date and it was secure. Now, by all means, I am praying for and doing my part to support those battling the illness and its spread, but we're seeing a growing tension in quarantine. We all want out, but no one knows when it will be allowed and in the meantime, those rebelling against restrictions are creating risk that the rest of us are sacrificing to mitigate. We have the hope of eventual freedom, but no set "go date." In so many ways, this is the life of faith and just like tests of faith spiritually, this physical crisis is testing our character and revealing our hearts.

I can recall a few times living abroad when I was with a group that was traveling somewhere. Without knowledge of the landscape and having no control over traffic, I was completely at the mercy of the driver of my vehicle and the circumstances around us. One such trip was in my first two weeks in Manila. We took the whole high school on retreat to a place that (on a map) was not very far -- only about 60 miles. When I first looked it up on a map, I was confused as to why we were taking the entire afternoon to travel only an hour or so... but as soon as we left the subdivision gates, I realized we were no longer on US travel time. In my mind, what "should have" taken us 90 minutes max ended up taking 4.5 HOURS to go 60 miles. I had no anxiety going into that travel time, but after my 90 minute time frame expired, so did my level of peace. The next two hours was a battle mentally to trust that we would get there, we would be fed dinner at some point (because we never stopped!), and it would all be okay. Let's just say that little travel adventure was only the beginning of learning how to stretch my patience WAY past the original expectation.

Perhaps that's where you're at right now: shouldn't we be done with this already? Are we there yet? For real, how much longer -- I really need a break from my current scenery and I'm getting kind of hungry for something not already in my backpack. Sound familiar?

I really think the anxiety we are collectively feeling is because there is ambiguity in almost every area of our lives right now and in most cases, we didn't ask for it. No one invited a global pandemic. No one hoped for economic shut-down. No one wants innocent victims to die from an invisible enemy. But we are where we are. So, now what?

I've been doing a lot of reading in the Psalms lately and one that keeps popping back into my mind comes from Psalm 90. The latter half of it reads,

10 Seventy years are given to us!
Some even live to eighty.
But even the best years are filled with pain and trouble;
soon they disappear, and we fly away.
11 Who can comprehend the power of your anger?
Your wrath is as awesome as the fear you deserve.
12 Teach us to realize the brevity of life,
so that we may grow in wisdom.

13 O Lord, come back to us!
How long will you delay?
Take pity on your servants!
14 Satisfy us each morning with your unfailing love,
so we may sing for joy to the end of our lives.
15 Give us gladness in proportion to our former misery!
Replace the evil years with good.
16 Let us, your servants, see you work again;
let our children see your glory.
17 And may the Lord our God show us his approval
and make our efforts successful.
Yes, make our efforts successful!

Other translations say "Teach us to number our days" for verse 12. I think this is the key to surviving the rest of this season of uncertainty. In the moments when I've been frustrated, I've had to learn to flip my thinking.

"When will this be over?" becomes "What can I do with the hours I KNOW I've been afforded?"
"I want to go out" becomes "For the sake of the safety of my community, I'll choose to stay in."
"What else is there to do?" becomes "What projects do I want to work on this week?"
 And perhaps most importantly: "I can't wait to get back to my normal life," has become "I am SO THANKFUL for a time to intentionally become the woman I 'never have time' to invest in."

The last few weeks, I've made a list of goals (some could be labeled chores) that I want to achieve this week. Last night I used an hour to think through my responsibilities. One of the ways we can number our days is by giving proper order to the things we already know we're responsible for and then using the margin for the lesser things. When I made a list of my God-given responsibilities, I thought, "Wow... Yeah, I could be working on those 24/7. No room for boredom on this list." But then as a counter-balance, I made myself list things that are NOT my job. These are things I may want, I likely pray for or have some responsibility to, but I am not the keeper of their outcome. And when I made that list, I prayed over it and asked God to emotionally release me from the burden I feel to fix things that were never mine to own. Part of learning to number our days is knowing the difference between a number and a letter.

Honoring God in my thoughts, actions, and words? That's a number.
Upholding my responsibilities to work projects? That's a number.
Caring for my mind and body? That's a number.
But carrying other people's stress? Nope -- that's a letter.
Telling others how they ought to number their days? Nope -- it's up to them.
Telling our elected leaders how to do their jobs better? Not your job.  You are released from this.

I don't want to waste this season. Even though it's really difficult for most people around me, I can tell you from experience, epic growth can occur from re-prioritizing our time and flipping our thinking away from a mindset of scarcity. When those around you are crying "The sky is falling," just remember... no matter what happens, your feet were always on the ground. We have the choice to concern ourselves with the sky... but it doesn't change where our feet are planted. I'd rather focus on putting my feet where they need to be instead of watching what may or may not be happening somewhere in the upper stratosphere miles above my head.

I don't have the magic number for riding out the rest of quarantine. I don't know when or how. But I do know the One who "knew all of my days before even one of them came to be." (Ps. 139) He has given us purpose in our daily lives, even when it seems like we're just doing the same things repeatedly. Do them faithfully. Seek Him earnestly. Love others with grace and truth. It will all be over soon enough.