IMG_0537I got my second Covid vaccination yesterday morning. I will continue to be cautious and wear a mask, but I will breathe a little easier within a couple of weeks. I scheduled nothing today, because I had heard from many that the second shot often takes a physical toll the next day.

The toll did not wait until the next day. By 10:00 last night I was in bed and I was achy everywhere. I did not feel sick or feverish, but as I lay there tossing and turning, trying to find a comfortable position, I thought, “I haven’t felt this achy since the end of my first week working with Mr. Shepherd’s bricklaying crew.” That was the summer of 1967 when I was a scrawny 17 year-old tasked with keeping a crew of burly bricklayers supplied with mortar and bricks all day.

I’m tired this morning from a restless night, but I’m no achier than this 71 year-old typically feels.

This season of Lent certainly has been different than previous years because of the pandemic.  The many restrictions and precautions imposed because of the virus have made our circumstances different. But this pandemic, like Lent itself, has presented us with yet another opportunity to examine our perspective.

One perspective that I have frequently adopted is to see the pandemic as a giant imposition on my life, an external force that has disrupted the way I am accustomed to doing things. When viewed this way, I grumble about what I am not able to do, I complain about my restrictions, like a child sent to his room as punishment. I take it personally.

Occasionally, though, I can step beyond my own limited perspective. Sometimes I can recognize that this pandemic is what life has presented us. The virus developed, spread, and mutated the way viruses do. There is nothing personal about it. We even knew something like this was inevitable, but unfortunately, preparation was optional therefore ignored.

I certainly don’t want to be glib. This is serious stuff. Each of us has lost family and/or friends to the virus. Each of us knows healthcare providers who live with unimaginable stress trying to care for others. We know teachers and students who have suffered. We know business people who are struggling. We hear heart-wrenching tales of loved ones separated during one’s death.

But I also know that I respond most creatively and courageously when I don’t take personally something that is beyond my control. I respond best when I can say, “So this is what life has presented me. Now how shall I respond?”