I know a lot of people are focusing on upbeat and positive things right now to get through this ordeal. I think it’s great to do whatever it takes to keep our sanity. Although, sometimes I think we need to come to some sort of acceptance as to the reality of our changed way of life. Perhaps we are all still numb.
During Lent, we walk the way of the Cross and meditate on the Passion of our Lord Jesus Christ. At the same time, we examine the crosses in our own lives and lift them up to the Lord. He has walked the same path that we are on.
The path of crosses, which we happen to walk all our lives whether we are aware of it or not, has really hit home. Illness, death, massive joblessness among many other societal ills beset our restful sleep at night and haunt our dreams. What kind of future world will our children live in? Where will Coronavirus leave us? I do believe we will make it through this somehow. The human race is resilient. What other choice do we have? The world will be different but also renewed at the same time. God is on our side.
The pilgrimage site that I visited with my mom and sister and my mom’s cousin in the fall of 2017 was a monument to crosses that we face in our lives. It truly is a sight to behold and it was impossible to view them all. There were a multitude of crosses, crucifixes, rosaries, statues, pictures and effigies. The site was dripping with crosses. It was interesting to think that behind each cross is a story. We brought our own crucifixes with our names on them to represent the family name and any life struggles that we had come to bear. I also looked for a crucifix that I had placed on an earlier trip to the site. It had only been two years and I finally found it but it was practically covered up by newly placed crosses.
In 2017 I traveled to the pilgrimage site with my mom and sister to the Hill of Crosses outside of Siauliai, Lithuania.
I think that writing during this time has given me solace. I’ve been writing for a number of years. As a youth, I had a raspberry-colored, shiny, plastic diary with white pages and a gold-colored lock and key. It is not in my possession now because over the years it became misplaced. I would like go back in time and read it, though.
There is artistry in both the written word and photography. I’ve been a life-long writer and photographer and interested in visual messages. As a writer, one must be some sort of a visual artist but I tend to use photos to convey messages that words cannot. I suppose that is why my college degree is in Advertising.
As a child, I would keep a notebook of fashion magazine pages that I cut out of magazines–striking photos of models posed in the latest seasonal fashion. I would pour over these for hours. I miss fashion, as it is not as prevalent these days and probably not something I should be preoccupied with.
Summers were filled with letters to pen pals. Then came term papers in college. In the work world, I wrote short articles for a military newspaper and radio copy for the military news station. Later on, I kept a journal to record thoughts on paper, write poetry, rant and rave, and keep record of my children’s milestones.
Now, with technology, I get to share my thoughts with anyone who wants to read them.
Maybe this downturn is something I need to kickstart my writing. This period of time will be our cross to bear. It will be a heavy cross, but Jesus has already carried it and, for a time, was securely placed on it. We only need to look up at it. Our stories are written all over it.