War and Peace

On Wednesday evening, I was flying to Stockholm for a long weekend and knowing there would be quite a few hours of useless time in different airports (Sweden was just the first leg of the journey), I took two books with me. One of them was Frederick Buechner's The Alphabet of Grace. It has become a habit of mine to read this book at least once a year. It's an odd one - the first time I read it I barely understood anything. It's so slow and complicated. But there is magic in this book that keeps pulling me back to it, so it has become my annual companion. And some words I found there comforted me in a special way as I was flying out on the last evening before the war broke out. Buechner asks, "What's to be done? And the answer that life gives is: live in the needs of the day. What's to be done? Do what you need most to do this day and what is most needed of you." I have come back to these words again and again over these days. Because the war news can become so depressing and overwhelming that you don't know any more if there is anything that can be done. The whole thing seems nightmarish and paralyzing. But his words have reminded me - do what you can. Live intentionally in this complicated and heart-breaking reality that wants to suck all joy and peace out of you. What you can't do, leave to the mercy of God, but what you can do, do.

I have tried to follow the advice. I have donated more money over these few days than I had done for a long time. I have tried to share information about the possibilities of helping out. I have kept pleading with God to protect the innocent and to make possible what seems humanly impossible. But I have also found that to live in the needs of the day means finding joy in and expressing gratitude for all the good things I have. This is also my obligation. I have to add joy to the sorrow, I have to learn to live in a place where these two intersect. As the terrible and sensless war began, as the Ukrainian people were forced to sleep in shelters, cellars and metro stations, I could wake up in a comfortable bed to clear blue skies in a place where there was no real fear or threat, in a place where bombs were not falling. With my heart aching for these people, I was grateful for what I had. We went out for a walk in nature on Friday afternoon and I couldn't help myself, I kept thinking of all these young women who have had to send their sweethearts to war and who do not know if they will ever meet them again. It somehow made my own luck and the fact that my sweetheart was with me more special than ever. Going to a church on Saturday morning that bombs had not damaged was a blessing I could count. Going to a grocery store laden with all things good was something I saw with different eyes. Warm home and hot water. Medical help. Peace. Do what you can, be grateful whenever possible, live in the needs of the day. 

And now I am in Vejlefjord, Denmark, getting ready for a long week of preaching to highschool kids. On one hand, I want to throw up my hands in despair and throw away all my "pre-war" sermons because I feel so inadequate and I don't really know what to say in these crazy times to the youngsters who will inherit this sick and broken world from us. But on the other hand, I keep reading this quote by Buechner over and over again and I keep reminding myself that even here I need to live in the needs of the day. I will try and share with teenagers the words I have prepared and although I wish so badly I had better and more powerful words to speak, I will speak my small words in my own small way. And if they get anything out of my sermons, it will be by pure grace of God.

And if any of you asks the same question - What's to be done? What's to be done? - maybe you, too, can find some guidance in Buechner's words.  

All Is Well

It's five days since the first symptoms and one day since the first positive test (I wasted a good number of speed tests and one PCR test before that). Being fairly sure it was Covid from the beginning, it was with a great relief that I saw two red lines on my test yesterday.

It may sound weird but that's how it was. Because being lucky enough to have mild symptoms (sore throat, an occasional headache, some bad coughing, a small temperature one evening), what this "extra" red line meant for me was the end of that nerve-racking and never-ending (or so it seemed to me) waiting. So far, every day and every contact meant a potential threat, and even if this thought was buried deep beneath all the other thoughts and cares, it still wore me out in the end. I got so tired of waiting and worrying and counting and imagining - especially in the context of my Swedish trips and my week of preaching in the beginning of March in Vejlefjord, Denmark. Now the famous guest is here. Phew. Let's deal with it. And then, hopefully, I can go back to the world without this burden of nagging fear.

According to the Estonian law, my isolation will not end before another 5 days. But it has barely felt like an isolation. I have been able to have one literature class on Zoom, taking CPR tests means I have a reason to go out and breath some fresh air, I'm constantly keeping in touch with my family members (nothing entertains me quite as much as discussing dress styles with my five year old niece - E. is very worried about what to wear in my wedding in the summer:), my auntie brought me some warm food yesterday. I can clean and cook. And although, as we joke with S., I mostly go from bed to sofa and from sofa to bed, that's alright, too. It's a break from the constant hurrying and working. And while I lie in bed or on my sofa, I put to good use my rocket-science-awesome-brilliant headphones S. got me for Christmas. They are these big and fancy noise cancelling headphones with - really! - a brilliant sound quality so I am constantly listening to something. Some lecture from an Estonian audio lecture program called Night University, or some audio book (it was a Hercule Poirot story yesterday), or my much beloved audio Bible (I literally stopped reading the Bible some three years ago when I discovered audio Bible - soon it will be the third time for me to get through the Bible by listening to it).

And as I had almost stopped coughing by this morning, I decided it was time to get back to my usual 'ice-cold morning shower' routine today. It felt good!

So with humble gratitude and with my heart aching for all these friends and acquaintances who have not had it so easy, I can say - all is well with me.