Observe, Part 1

 Observe was the star word I received in 2020.  After a year of Sparkle, I was pretty excited about this new word and what I THOUGHT it meant. Isn’t that always the way with this tradition? You think your word means one thing, and it actually ends up meaning something entirely different. I thought it meant that I was going to quietly observe the world around me and write about those observations on my blog.  I made a single post on my blog in 2020.

In early January, I began quietly observing the news out of China. I became increasingly alarmed, an anxious observation I kept to myself for at least a month. As February and March approached, I wasn’t particularly thrilled that my observations had been correct. I am still not.

Late February, something changed for me.  Data started being published.  Before there were dashboards in each state, I was downloading numbers myself, calculating rates and making predictions.  That’s what epidemiologists do: collect data, make observations and draw conclusions.  When the data changes, so do the observations and, sometimes the conclusions.

By mid-March, I was having nightly panic attacks. I observed that looking at data after 6 pm was not a good idea for me. Something happened along the way, though. I rediscovered my passion for epidemiology and public health. I started reviewing journal articles again.  I started posting my observations for friends (#wearamask).  I served on committees making decisions about in-person vs. online gatherings. And you started asking me for advice. Those individual encounters helping you make decisions about when to gather and when to not gather energized me.  While I would still prefer to not be experiencing a pandemic, those interactions have been a gift to me. You’ve been a gift to me.

The data is bleak now, just as predicted. But I offer you some hope. We have journeyed further through this pandemic than we have left to go.  Probably. I am an epidemiologist. I am never going to commit to anything with 100% certainty. I will commit to a 95% confidence interval.

When we first met to decide about whether to hold worship in the sanctuary, my quiet observation was that we were in this for a long haul, but we were only ready to commit to online worship that first week. Then we decided until summer, then through summer, and so on. Little chunks of time seem easier to manage.  Online worship has been a gift.  Time with my family has been a gift.  Scott and I still find somethings to laugh about…that has been a gift.  We are resurrection people. We know that before Easter comes Good Friday. We will, one day, gather together again. And it will be glorious.  That is one observation for which I am 100% certain.