Corona-time: When You Do What You Can, You Do Enough

John Wesley's clock in the New Room, Bristol

Time is on everyone's mind right now. For some, it's a case of too much time on their hands; for others, there aren't enough hours in the day. And for others, time on this mortal coil has run out.

You may have heard that there are at least two different kinds of time: chronos and kairos.  Chronos is the kind that's marked in seconds and hours on watches and clocks; kairos is often called God's time, the appointed season in which the heavenly kingdom breaks in on earth for a moment or more.

I have discovered while living under quarantine that there's another kind of time, one you may also be experiencing. I call it corona-time.  My husband had a birthday a few weeks ago, and he completely forgot about it until I reminded him. I decided this lapse of memory was the direct result of living in corona-time.

Unless you are in a key or essential work position, your schedule likely bears little resemblance to your normal routine. You may be sleeping more or less than usual and perhaps not as well. You may be getting a crash course in how to teach your children while trying to figure out Zoom or other technology in order to meet or worship or simply to stay in touch with others. You may be wondering how, when, or if the cherished plans you made are going to come to fruition.

Worse still, you may be grieving because you can't say goodbye to a loved one near death or even because your own health has been affected adversely by the coronavirus.  The weight of uncertainty, the negative economic effects, the loss of a sense of control, the listlessness of feeling locked down, or the nagging fear of being exposed to the deadly disease -- all of these make a mockery of chronological time and can wreak havoc on your regular God-time. You may catch glimpses of God in action, but you may also find it hard to pray because you are scared or angry or confused because of living in corona-time. You may be celebrating Easter and Jesus's resurrection, but you may be worried about death a little closer to home. You may have a steady, calm sense from the Holy Spirit that no matter what, living or dying, all shall be well, but you may see that stack of bills and have no idea what you'll do about it.

On September 5, 1785, John Wesley wrote a letter of encouragement to one of his itinerant lay preachers, Thomas Wride. He opens with this simple yet effective word of advice -

When you do what you can, you do enough. 

Wesley being Wesley, before affectionately concluding the letter and sending love to Mrs. Wride, continued with well-intentioned admonitions for Thomas --

I trust you will now use every possible means of redeeming the time. I wish you would never neglect sleeping early and rising early. Beware of anything like lightness or trifling. Wherever you are be obliging and be serious. Disappoint those who wait for your halting. 

It's likely that Wesley would have filled every waking minute by exploring new ways to reach people with the gospel, chafing at enforced sheltering in place, and that he'd compose four new books, edit ninety hymns, write a dozen sermons, and experiment with potions and physic during a pandemic such as this.  But, being a reasonable man motivated by love, he would recognize the wisdom of staying put unless absolutely necessary, and he would perceive that it doesn't affect everybody the same way.

So I'm not going to tell you that you have failed quarantine if you don't emerge with a rough draft of a masterpiece or if you can't speak three new languages or if your kids don't understand the quadratic equation. I'm not going to compare your shaky videos shot from your kitchen table with the polished worship services of churches with million dollar budgets. I simply want to support you as you keep doing what you're doing, and I am praying for you every step of the way.

And remember, during the pandemic and always, when you do what you can, you do enough.