By default, that’s the only 3 places my girl has been too. She’s my shadow right now. When I start to feel overwhelmed, she instantly feels it and tears well up in her eyes. She knows something is happening, but she has no idea or comprehension of this pandemic to even guess.
I have snuck away and hid in the bathroom more times in the last four days than I care to admit, leaving my kid on an iPad to entertain herself. I had intentions of teaching her all about the alphabet and was determined she’d go back to school being able to identify each letter. Instead, I think she’ll be quoting movie lines and singing theme songs for cartoons. Am I allowed to say that for the public to read? Does that make me a bad parent? I had a lot of plans that haven’t gone as planned, but this one makes me feel the most as a failure.
In all honesty, I’m scared
I have spent the last 28 months building a business that I have proudly and excitedly been behind, determined to see growth, pouring my soul into, my sweat, tears, and blood all left behind on the floor. I had come to the other side. I made it. We surpassed the amount of months everyone before me had lasted, and we celebrated the numbers increasing, each positive review, and each relationship we built with our customers. We dreamed new dreams and we expanded. We were building an empire; me, my tiny girl, and my two managers under me. Together, I believed we could hold our own and would become a name in the entertainment industry that wouldn’t go unnoticed.
And then the darkness fell.
If I was being honest, I would tell you that I first learned about this virus when a customer gave me a call asking what we were doing in response to it. Is it embarrassing if I admit I thought she was asking if we sold alcohol? I don’t like politics, I don’t watch the news, and I don’t find enjoyment over scrolling through articles online. I spent the next three hours head down in research trying to make sure I knew every detail before I made a plan to counteract it. My business would survive this. We would clean, we would have sanitizer, we would use humor, and we would be flexible. We would survive. We had to. After all, we survived flu season, winter storms, and that one time I flooded the building when I accidentally left the hose on over night. We learned, we made policies, and we came back each time as strong as ever. But we’ve never faced a public health pandemic before. And we wouldn’t stay open like our plans and our determination said we would.
We battled for 5 days. I continued to research. For every argument telling me to close, I found six more telling me that as long as we did our best to clean, we could make it. I found articles telling me that kids were the strongest and that we should only be worried about the elderly. We serve kids, we serve families, we serve grandparents. How do we keep it safe?
I cried a lot. I was walking through uncharted territory, unsure of my steps, questioning every choice, and living on a prayer. How do you make a choice between keeping a dream alive and making sure my customers stay safe? How do you selfishly pray a prayer for a business, when loved ones were saying goodbye, hospitals were full, and people were afraid? Uncharted territory. You fail. You fall. And you dodge the bullets.
I trusted blindly. I had faith. I held onto Jesus and I listened. God would lead me through the waters, just as he parted the sea when Moses couldn’t see a way out, I believed he would give me a cane to raise and would save me. But he didn’t. As the days slowly faded away, I grew increasingly uneasy. We weren't getting out of this untouched. Does he not hear me? Does he not see me? Look at me! I’m here! I’m working! I’m trying! I’m trusting YOU, how could you not see?
And as painful as this journey has been, I still praise his name.
I snuck away tonight and sat quietly on the bathroom floor, the one I know my girls hadn’t mopped in a week but that’s a story for another day, and I cried. I cried big ugly, scary, anxiety riddled tears. I called God a liar. I shouted at him and accused him of leaving me alone. I begged for an answer. I screamed for help. How could you give me a dream and then snatch it away? How could you show me success and right as I was about to break the threshold, how dare you hold me back? Did you not want me here? Did you not have a plan for me like you promised? Show me you love me! Show me you see me! Hear me! Where are you?
And then just as quickly as the anger and hurt hit me, it was gone. God showed up. God was there. And in the smallest way, he gave me peace. For the first time since I started my google search on the virus, I felt hope. It was going to be okay, it will be okay. God will carry me through.
I felt God calling me out to the waters and whispering to my heart to take his hand. He was calling me to be calm, to quiet my mind, to stop the fear, to believe that He would restore everything, if only I relinquished control and trusted. And so I praise his name.
Jesus. If His name alone is enough to make the devil tremble, how could I fear any threat against me?
And in my soul, I knew. I knew I made the choice that he was quietly telling me to do all along. But I was fighting him. I was holding onto the control. I was trying to be my own savior, asking God for help, but trusting that I would be the one who saved me. But if God cares enough to provide food for the birds of the air and the fish in the sea, does he not also care to provide for every need I have? Does he not promise that he will work out all things? Does he not call me to trust him? Has he ever failed me? Has he ever let me go? Has he ever not rescued me when I couldn’t stand up, given me wings to fly, and loving held me when I needed a father? Why now, after all of this, would he choose to leave me alone on a bathroom floor?
God showed up. God was there.
His name. Not mine.
I will praise his name.
And I will raise my cane and I will wait. Because I know the Lord, my God, my savior; and I know that he is holding onto me and he is giving me a dream of comeback, and he is writing this story and I have faith and I believe and I trust that my God is getting ready to turn the page of this tough chapter to read, “And then she overcame.”
Kids will run and play again, and their laughter and giggles and smiles will fill the air. My staff will continue to work to keep kids happy, and they’ll be driving me crazy again soon, they’ll forget to mop the bathrooms and they’ll eat all the snacks, but they’ll make me proud when they go above and beyond for a birthday child or comfort a parent when they come out from the tunnel carrying their screaming little one. They’ll be there, with their witty sense of humor and their personalities rattling the walls, and they’ll be stronger because of this.
But for now, we’ll keep on going. We’ll continue to update, and fix and repair, and create a place for kids to play when the risk is lower. We’ll do the research and we’ll hold on tight to Jesus, trusting that His plan is coming. We’ll spend time with our families. We’ll go on walks with our dogs. We’ll make each other laugh over FaceTime and they’ll teach me all about tik tok. We’ll find new board games, new tv shows, and things to keep us busy. I’ll learn to let go of the control, will work on trusting without knowing, and will hold tighter to the things that really matter. I’ll spend time helping families, I’ll grow closer to Jesus, and I'll make memories with my own tiny girl while we’ve been gifted these weeks together. I’ll accept the opportunity to just be a mom in this moment, and when the time comes to turn the page, I’ll be here holding onto my savior, with my cane in the air, knowing it is ONLY through Him that my life is worth living. It is only through Him that our future is known. It is only through Him that I can stare down a pandemic and know that we will be okay. And it is through Him that I can know my business will open for business again soon.
And until that day comes, I’ll be here praising God for his promise that this story isn’t over yet; and that through Him, I will overcome.
