Sometimes that night feels long. When the news seems to only be bad and the challenges we face seem to never end.

How much longer, Lord, how long?

I’m surrounded by disagreement and fear. Fear of disease. Fear of lack. Fear of tyranny. No one agrees on how to deal with it, not the experts and certainly not the politicians.

My church dance team just finished a socially distanced dance project thanks to the wonders of digital editing and a lot of hard work from one of our members who is also a visual artist.

The project came together quickly and yet I still felt a certain sense of loss. A sorrow not to be among these women, using our bodies to worship God as many of us have for more than two decades.

How much longer, Lord?

How much longer can I endure this? This world turned upside down. Nations rage and for once the raging is not out there, it is in here. Blessed to be born into a land of freedom, I now find myself afraid that that time is past.

But I have to remember that he is King.

He is still on the throne.

My home and heart are not immune to these struggles. We’ve had more than our share of uncertainly and fear in the last few years, and at the prospect of facing it again, I find myself unable to bear even the thought. I can’t go through it again.

How much more Oh, Lord?

I watch my children struggle with the realities of extended isolation, becoming less themselves and I wonder when this is finally over (if it is ever over) what percentage of their childhoods will be lost. Will they ever go to a museum or a zoo? Will they ever be allowed to hug their friends and talk closer than six feet? Will their education revert to any kind of normalcy, or will their entire growing up be eclipsed by handwashing and masks, fear and isolation.

How much longer, oh Lord? Why do you tarry?