For the past week, I’ve been the only one working in the library, and it’s quiet. Other than the HVAC unit kicking on or the odd phone call, it’s silent. On a typical day, it’s rare for me to close my office door, so there’s always a hum of activity in the background. Last week, I could tell you the day of the week by the sound of the voices floating to my office from the front desk. This morning, I had to think twice about whether it was Thursday or Friday.

The patterns of my life have shifted, and it’s jarred me. I don’t think it will be possible for everything to ever return to as it was before the pandemic, and that might be a good thing. I’ve focused on the scripture, In everything give thanks; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you. 1 Thessalonians 5:18.  As I mentally say this verse, I can think of many things for which to be thankful.

I will never again take for granted, a typical workday. I’ll appreciate visiting the grocery with stocked shelves, fearless of walking too close to another shopper. I’ve discovered I love and miss all the library patrons, even a couple of the grumpy ones who complain every time they visit.

Today I’m lifting prayers of thanks for my community and my country and all the heroes serving: grocery store clerks, attendants at the gas station, postal workers, pharmacy workers, police, the national guard, farmers, and especially health care workers.

Pandemic or no pandemic, we are all terminal. I believe when the church doors open again, many will fill the pews and sing praise songs. Perhaps, many lost souls will repent of their sins, and accept Jesus as Lord of their life. God’s proven time, and again He can take any tragedy and turn it to His good.

During this period of isolation, Jesus is removing scales from my eyes, and I’m seeing a clearer picture as to how richly God’s blessed me with the beautiful background music of a normal day filled chatter, laughter, and friendship.

I sit here in the silence of the library, surrounded by all my favorite books, and I realize the stories are not what I love most about this place; it’s the people who walk through the doors. I never realized a beautiful melody filled the air around me. It’s paused, and I’m yearning for each missing voice, each single and unique note, that makes up the background music of my life.

What have you discovered during your time in isolation?  Until we meet again, may God protect you and those you love. Blessings.