The Sweet and Low

I haven't really written here about COVID and how it has affected our family as we pass our quarantine days in a third-world country. Recently a few inconveniences have arisen that in themselves are insignificant, but they signify something greater: the change, disappointment, and loss that we've felt during the last four months as the pandemic has overtaken our small patch of Africa.

One of my staples that is freely available in America but impossible to find in Mozambique is that little pink packet of artificial sweetener.

My last few packets of Sweet'N Low 😩

So far I have mostly been able to stay stocked up on Sweet'N Low because every time my mom sends a care package over with people who are visiting from the U.S., I request that she include a large quantity of Sweet'N Low packets. The last group that came was in February, and they brought me a big zip-top bag full of them. The team also brought me several large bags of dark-roast Starbucks coffee.

Who says you can't find Starbucks in Pemba?

I was good to go. Of course I knew they would not last forever, but I had a plan for my next stock-up: a trip to America.

Harvey and the kids and I were scheduled to go to the U.S. at the end of May for a training with our mission board. The training was to be held in Virginia, and we were also planning to take vacation to spend a few days in DC and a few weeks in Oklahoma visiting family and friends. As you can imagine, we were thrilled about this trip. It was the perfect timing: about one year since we had seen my parents and brother in Cape Town (April 2019) and about one year from when we would be returning to the U.S. for our stateside assignment (April 2021).

But as you know, everyone's plans changed this spring and summer, including ours. The training was canceled and the trip was canceled. No family visits. This was especially difficult for us to accept because of the situation with my dad's health, which I wrote about a couple months ago. I have wanted to be with them so badly during this difficult season, and a trip in May would have given me that opportunity. It was there, and then it was gone.

I think for us the most challenging part of the COVID pandemic is the restrictions on travel. That's not because we necessarily need (or needed) to travel anywhere, but it's knowing that if we did need to, because of some sort of emergency, we couldn't. And if we just feel the need to get out of Pemba, to get a break from our home and our surroundings, it's not an option. There's nowhere close by where we could go to experience a few days of the conveniences and comforts that we miss here. The last time I left Pemba was for my surgery in February. And Harvey and the kids have not left Pemba since last December. The travel plans we had, both the trip to the States and a women's retreat I was scheduled to attend in Europe in May, were canceled. I was not able to travel to be with my parents during the time of my Dad's hospitalization and his transition to full-time home health care. And more and more it's looking like our annual trip to South Africa to take our kids to MK Camp is not going to happen either (if MK Camp is canceled). All of these opportunities and experiences that we looked forward to, these times of retreat and refreshment that energize us to continue to serve in the challenging work and live the challenging life God has called us to in Pemba, have been taken away. That is the low for us in these strange days.

But there is also much that is sweet, much to be thankful for. In some ways it's a blessing to be in Mozambique right now. In the States, things like sporting events, concerts, and other large gatherings have been canceled or greatly restricted, whereas in Pemba, we never had those things in the first place! Other than attending school and church, we are mostly free to continue our normal activities: doing ministry with small groups, hanging out with friends, going to the beach, exercising outdoors, and eating at restaurants. We are safe, and we are healthy. Our family is together. The Lord is watching over our family in the States, who are also safe and healthy so far. We look around us and see the suffering of thousands of Mozambicans who have been displaced because of violence, the suffering of those who are sick with malaria and other diseases, the suffering of those who have lost loved ones, and we realize that things could be much worse for us. So we must remember to balance our sadness for lost plans and opportunities (the low) with our gratitude for undeserved blessings (the sweet).

I will survive without my Sweet'N Low and my Starbucks. I will be fine. All of the things I could not survive without are still right here with me, and I am grateful.

I think of this song, which I love, which always makes me cry—"Walk On" by U2:

And love is not the easy thing
The only baggage you can bring
Is all that you can't leave behind

And if the darkness is to keep us apart
And if the daylight feels like it's a long way off
And if your glass heart should crack
And for a second you turn back
Oh no, be strong

Walk on
Walk on
What you got they can't steal it
No, they can't even feel it
Walk on
Walk on
Stay safe tonight

You're packing a suitcase for a place
None of us has been
A place that has to be believed
To be seen
You could have flown away
A singing bird in an open cage
Who will only fly
Only fly for freedom

Walk on
Walk on
What you got they can't deny it
Can't sell it or buy it
Walk on
Walk on
Stay safe tonight

And I know it aches
And your heart it breaks
You can only take so much
Walk on

Home, hard to know what it is if you've never had one
Home, I can't say where it is but I know I'm going
Home, that's where the hurt is

And I know it aches
And your heart it breaks
You can only take so much
Walk on

Leave it behind
You've got to leave it behind

All that you fashion
All that you make
All that you build
All that you break
All that you measure
All that you steal
All this you can leave behind ...