These Days Are Not Forever

These days are not forever,
Good days will come again,
When you and I can be together,
Safe and sound, my friend.

Though hardship draws us far apart,
Across the chasm deep;
This one bright hope I cling to:
Those He loves, He will keep.

When night eclipses morning,
And sorrow eclipses cheer,
Sigh not, dear friend, for I am here,
To love you ’til the end draws near.

My family, my sisters, my brothers,
All must know,
That He who keep us in His love,
Will be with us where’er we go.

(Music later on in this post)

I wrote this poem after talking with a friend from church over Facetime. In the past few weeks, I’ve spent more time on Facetime and Zoom than I ever thought I could in such a short period of time. I miss my friends, I miss my family, and I miss freely interacting with the general public. The state of tenseness and anxiety I feel anytime I go to a public place makes me sad. I just want to smile at every person who looks my way, but so many people keep their heads down for the sake of safety. I understand completely, but still miss the days of carefree smiles, waves, and nods.

Do you feel the same way? I imagine so many, or all of us, do. This is a strange time to live through. I’ve told Brian over and over again that I don’t know what is the right thing to do anymore. The kids and I went for a walk along some hiking trails today, and I wondered if we should even go. I questioned whether or not Covid-19 could travel to us on the wind, and if so, for how many miles? Could we get infected by someone from across the park? I worry about other parents criticizing me for taking my kids out of our yard at all. Really, anything could happen to us when we go out, at anytime, regardless of the state of the pandemic. Will I blame myself if the kids pick up the virus while we hike? What if something else happens? Fear makes me question almost every decision to leave the house these days.

Writing helps me process through all the confusion and upheaval happening in the world. As I write, I often think about these words from Romans 8:

For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us. For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the sons of God. For the creation was subjected to futility, not willingly, but because of him who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God. For we know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now. And not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies. For in this hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what he sees? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience.

Romans 8:19-25

Paul uses the word “eager” twice in these verses. Creation waits eagerly for the “revealing of the sons of God,” and we wait eagerly for the redemption of our bodies. Creation groans and we groan as we wait for our Savior’s return when He will make everything new–truly beautiful and truly wonderful. I also wait eagerly and groan through these days of isolation. But, we wait patiently and place our hope not in what the world will bring, but what Jesus has already done for us.

Remember, dear friend, that these days are not forever. Soon the shadows will lift, and we’ll see a new, glorious day break along the horizon. Praise God that this world isn’t all there is. He is with us, He is risen, and that hope will never fade away.