A Rainy, Quarantined, and Imperfect Easter

The rain sprinkles my bedroom window and seems to be in harmony with the chimes that are singing in the breeze on the back porch.

That is a beautiful positive.

This has been the normal routine lately. Finding what I call a beautiful positive and focusing on that in the midst of all of this.

I don't have to go into great detail as to what "all of this" is. We all have experienced it to some degree in some way and some how. At the least we have been uncomfortable. At the worst we have been depressed. And between the two are a wide array of feelings and emotions and whatever else one wants to call the nasty.

I think it can all be summed up in one word though. 

Loss. 

For all of us it's the loss of normalcy, which in word can be cheapened, but it is loss all the same. And y'all...it's hard. For us adults it's not only hard but it's hard to explain to the ones we are raising and mentoring. It's hard to explain because of another loss...the loss of answers. We don't know the other end of the "what ifs...", but then again have we ever known and just now in this time it's becoming all too clear. 

Seniors have lost their final high school memories. Coaches and players have lost seasons. Some students have lost perhaps the only peace they know in the comfort of a teacher's care and a school's providence. 

Engaged couples have lost the excitement of celebrations and had to move their wedding dates. Families have lost travel plans and vacations for which they spent months planning and saving. Celebrations of life are now limited to gravesides for fifteen minutes, causing some to lose the chance to say goodbye.

Some have lost jobs. Some have lost financial security. Many have lost trust and confidence and doubt is creeping in. There are even some more than likely on the brink of losing sanity. 

And then of course many have lost their health and safety, and most tragically some have even lost life. There are no words. 

All of us have experienced loss in some way to some degree. There should be no comparison. Let's stop with the judgement. We all need to allow space for the loss of whatever it is to be grieved and the feelings that are there to be felt. Just like almost all things in life, everything concerning this time in our lives and history isn't black and white...there is so much grey.  

During my quiet and meditation time this weekend He keeps placing one thing repeatedly on my heart...

"Whatever you know to be true..."

Jesus. 

That is what is true. Really the only thing that is true.

I have been asking myself from the beginning of all this, what would He do? 

The other night I was social distance visiting outside with a couple of friends. Another friend joined us briefly and he mentioned I looked a bit tired and stressed. He took me by surprise when he reached out and hugged me. That is exactly what this extrovert who speaks love with physical touch needed. 

And I immediately thought, that is exactly what Jesus would do. 

Jesus would hug those that needed hugging without reservation. He was known for touching lepers and people who had some pretty nasty germs back in the day, you know. By the way, it wasn't socially acceptable either. I don't think He would be any different today.

But you know what else. Jesus would wear a mask, too. If that made someone feel loved and cared for, He'd wear a mask. He brought people down from trees and went to their houses so they would be comfortable. He met with people in the dead of night so they would feel safe. He went to bedsides and graves to heal and to raise. He even gave the promise of heaven to a trouble maker while they were dying on crosses. 

So what would He do? He would do what ever is needed to be done for those that He loves. He would give a hug or make a visit. He would wear a mask and practice social distancing. And He would do all the other things that fall somewhere between.

The rain continues to be a beautiful positive as it's now joined with the loud crashes of thunder and the flashes of lightning. We view today's weather in human eyes and think of this being such a sad and imperfect day to celebrate Easter. If the quarantines and isolation weren't enough, throw in the nasty weather and it's about as imperfect as you can get. 

But what if that Sunday morning so many many years ago was rainy and nasty, much like today. Would that have changed anything? No not at all. 

A beautiful sky, green grass, eggs and a bunny, and the fancy clothes...those things don't make for a perfect Easter. 

The only perfection ever needed is alive and well and continues to be the answer to all the unanswered questions, the hope for every doubt, and the love for everyone who has loss. 

Jesus. 

A Post by One of the Three Kids

Nancy Caroline’s Saba 2020 Blog Post...

On January 17 & 18 our Saba Spring Break 2020 group of 24 members met in Woodbury at the Cannon Inn to start our planning. That weekend we spent time planning events, elementary classes, high school classes, getting to know our fellow teammates through spiritual formation, and learning a little more about the island we planned to land on almost eight weeks later.

We continued this preparation every sunday night from then until some not so good news came on March 3rd.

On this day our team was informed that no students would be allowed to go on a spring break mission trip due to the out break of COVID-19. The 13 students that had planned, fundraised, and prayed for this trip would not longer get to step foot on this island when planned. But as a group and with Sabans we decided better few than none. So 9 of 24 team members continued to prepare to go to this beautiful island.

This planning was hard knowing we would have so many children sad that their “favorite lipscomb,” could not come. But we pushed through reworking events, classes, and meals.

Once all of this was figured out the now team of nine loaded up, on March 13th, with all the supplies and food needed for the next ten days on “The Unspoiled Queen.”

Arriving on the last flight to Saba that night the team was now ready to see God’s purpose for all the changes and craziness. That night we ate our annual first night meal at swinging doors with a few Sabans joining us. That meal brought both joy and laughter, getting to catch up with the people we have missed while away.

We went through out our saturday with so much happiness and joy to wake up and walk around in paradise. Getting to escape the craziness and madness we didn’t know the extent of back home.

That day some of us got up and went to serve the people of saba by building a bus stop. While the rest of us got a few extra hours of sleep. Lunch was a traditional saban meal of johnny cakes as a reward of hard work. That afternoon some of us took strolls through the bottom to deliver things to locals, look at God’s beautiful creation, and find as many kids as possible to talk to. Coming all back together as a team to get ready to go eat our dinner with an oh so welcoming Indian family on the island. Followed by our kick off event of ice cream at the gazebo. This day was filled with service, relationships, and love. But little did we know this would be some of our last days on Saba.

During our event we got word that St. Maarten, the only airport that flies in to Saba, is closing its air space to prevent any further development of coronavirus on their island. At family meeting that night the entire team learned the news and there came the tears, anger, and emptiness. Our arrangements home now had been moved a week before any of us had planned.

Five members left on the first flight out that Sunday morning, with the other four leaving Monday.

Going home is always the hardest part, but it was extra hard this time. Knowing that we had told the kids the night before we would see them Monday to play, talk, teach. We had said all of our hellos not knowing they were actually our goodbyes.

Entering back into the United States was nothing like us or any of our family members imagined. There was no integration, no medical screenings, but there also was no toilet paper. Our hearts were hurting the whole way home knowing we may have let a little kid down.

For me I was hurting because I really needed Saba, and although I got her for 67 hours. I still longed for her scenery and her people. I knew it was safer to be home than in a foreign country, but I didn’t know why God had sent us to just come home so early.


We have now all been home for three weeks, and for me at least, not much has gotten easier. The sadness is definitely easier to hide but still there. The regret for not talking to more people than I did, still nas at my stomach. But I do know God sent us for a reason. Maybe it was just to be able to let Sabans know that trough this pandemic, we wish we could be with them, but want to keep them safe. Maybe one of us said something to a Saban in those 62 - 67 hours we spent on island that will change there life. We may not know the exact reason for all of this madness now, but I do know God will eventually show us.

Although our time was cut short, I am still so thankful for the team I went with, the Sabans I hugged or elbow bumped, and all the laughs along the way.

This trip will forever be known as the weekend trip to Saba to build a bus stop!

-Nancy Caroline