In my time of confinement, questions float on the ceiling of my living-room cell:
“So this is what it feels like to be a prisoner?”
“Am I in for life?”
“Why are my minutes tick-tocking away as slowly as a school clock at ten minutes to three.”
“How long am I going to be locked down in this solitary world?”
“Since I’m not allowed to leave my home, what do I do?”
“Is this corona crisis going to drive me crazy? Is it my time to break down?”
The answer hits me as hard as a cellmate’s punch and as loud as a tin cup clanging against steel bars.
The Ed Sullivan Show, a song by Pete Seeger, sung by the Byrds, “Turn! Turn! Turn!”
The Old Testament—Ecclesiastes 3
To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:
A time to call family, and a time to tell them you love them;
A time to FaceTime children/grandchildren, and a time to tell them your proud of them;
A time to text the lonely, and a time to tell them you remember them;
A time to email friends, and a time to wish them good health;
A time to forgive, and a time to remember;
A time to post positive messages on FaceBook, and a time to applaud the healers for the risks they are taking;
A time to weep, and a time to laugh;
A time to post jokes and a time to recall that humor is often the best medicine.
This is the season to send electronic hugs and kisses.
This is the season to send high praise and kind thoughts.
This is the season to send prayers to the sick as well as the healthy.
In these calamitous times, these activities serve a purpose under the heavens.
Before they unlock your prison gates and grant you your freedom, remember:
To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven.