The irony of the chapter we were studying from Heidi Goehmann’s devotion Casting Stones was not lost on the six of us as we sat down at our computers, each in our own corner of the world.  Not only were we not able to embrace our fellow missionary wife when she was in the thick of unforeseen circumstances and struggles, but we also met on a day when the world was shutting down due to a pandemic sweeping across the globe.  

This is not a time to embrace.  This is a time of cancellations and closures.  This is a time when people in different countries are being forced to stay indoors and required to self-quarantine.  Sporting events, concerts, and schools are all being cancelled. Basic necessities like soap and toilet paper are nowhere to be found.  This is a time like many of us have never seen before.  

A time not to shake hands, not hug, not get within six feet of one another.  But as we dug into Heidi’s study and God’s Word – YES, if ever there was a time to embrace, it is now.  

When fear and anxieties run high,

When isolation is necessary,

When our neighbor is ill,

When our friend is without work,

When the children of our community do not have lunch,

When the sojourner is unable to return home,

When the foreigner is shunned,

When every corner of the earth seems vulnerable to disease,

When the unknown is overwhelming,

the world needs an embrace.

Our neighbor needs to know we are still here.  Those isolated need to know they are loved, and the anxious need to know that God is the Almighty.  

In our study, we went over 2 Kings 8:4-37.  When Elisha visited the Shunammite woman. He promised her she would embrace a son.  She protested, “Do not lie to your servant.”  

She was scared.  Scared to admit what her heart desired.  Scared to get her hopes up.  

I, too, have been scared to admit what my heart desired.  Wanting a baby after experiencing a loss is a fragile hope that is faintly whispered because the chance of another heart-shattering loss would be too much.  A pregnancy after a stillbirth was a constant battle on my knees not to let fear overtake me. “Dear Lord, do not lie to me.” “Do not let me get my hopes up if I will not embrace a baby after birth.”  “I am fragile, Lord.” I saw myself in the verse of the Shunammite woman.

Her son was born, he grew, and he died – in her arms.  And, oh, the emotion the Shunammite woman must have felt.  But when reading this passage, what jumped out at me was her response.  She told her husband she was going to the man of God. When asked why, she replied, “All is well.”  “All is well” translates to “shalom” or “peace.” She was saying it’s fine, or do not worry about it.

Her dismissive response caught me by surprise and drew me in.  It is what I can intimately relate to so well. It is fine.  I am fine.

I often hold my emotions close.  Understanding when to be vulnerable and honest in this world has been tricky for me. Especially with the hustle and bustle of busy lives.  When are my emotions an inconvenience to those around me? Who has time to help me grieve? Who can sit with me in the darkness? So to protect myself before really even evaluating my own emotions, I often respond, “I am fine.”  

The Shunammite woman did this twice.  First with her husband and then with Elisha’s servant, she uttered, “All is well.” It wasn’t until she saw Elisha that she “caught hold of his feet.”  She held it together until she felt safe to fall into him, to collapse from the weight of the grief. Elisha tells us she was in “bitter distress.” She was confused and angry.  She told him not to get her hopes up, and she reminded him of that. 

I’ve been in need of an embrace of that magnitude.  I walked around dismissing concerns until I felt safe enough to collapse into an embrace. This is the embrace our world will need.  This is the embrace our neighbor will need. This is the embrace we, the church, can offer. When the restrictions lift, when it is safe to be together again, when we walk outside our homes and assess the damage around us, we must  keep our eyes open. Who will need us to be their neighbor? 

Some of our neighbors will be in desperate need of an embrace and will need to collapse into the arms of someone who cares.  Be ready to embrace those who have gone without pay and do not know how they will continue to make ends meet. Some of our neighbors will have lost loved ones and may not have had the chance to say goodbye.  Some of our neighbors will be physically and mentally exhausted from attending to and caring for the sick. Some of our neighbors will be in need of human contact, a friend, someone to talk to after weeks spent in isolation.  Some of our neighbors will be facing burdens and holding pain they won’t be able to verbally express. Embrace your neighbor. Let them collapse into your arms. Remind them that they are not alone. Remind them that they are loved.  Embrace them. 

And until then…

Care for one another the best you can under these unprecedented circumstances.  Reach out with phone calls, letters, and emails.  

In the last twenty-four hours, I have seen friends and family across Facebook in many different corners of the world offer to buy meals for children who will no longer receive a school lunch, offer to pick up groceries for those who are the most vulnerable and do not feel comfortable to leave their house, provide resources to those stuck with little ones inside for days on end, and so many more beautiful acts of kindness.  

This is a time to love your neighbor. Love as Christ has loved us.  We may not be physically able to embrace during this time of distance, but know that you are loved.  You are not alone during this time of uncertainty. Your anxieties and fears are not silly, and I pray for you the “peace that surpasses all understanding” (Philippians 4:7). Take heart, dearest friend, our Lord has “overcome the world” (John 16:33). He has us in the palm of His hand.  He is our comfort. He is our shield.  He is our healer. You are precious to Him. 

You are loved.