My COVID-19 journey

My COVID-19 journey started sometime between March 7-9. I was in the Portland, Oregon, area, leading an organization through a strategic planning session and much later discovered that someone there tested positive for the virus. Ironically, I was serving a medical missions organization.

A week later, on a Sunday evening, my symptoms showed up: fever, fatigue, cough, aches, etc. Providentially, days earlier, we had decided to stop all Calvary gatherings. Unfortunately, during those strategy meetings, and the recording of our first online-only worship gathering, I was present with much of our staff and several Calvary leaders.

When I found out (Sunday, March 15) after a difficult week of symptoms that I was COVID-19 positive, my first prayer was, “God don’t let anyone get it from me.” God has been gracious. I’m now five days symptom-free, and no one, except perhaps my wife, Lynn, has been infected. She’s now the focus on my prayers!

I guess as long, as you aren’t hospitalized, they consider your case “mild.” I will say that it’s the sickest, longest “mild” I’ve ever experienced. But God has used and is using all of this for good. Doesn’t he always? So what am I learning? How is he shaping me? What is he doing at Calvary?

I’m learning to loosen my grip.

The Sunday night after I found out I was COVID-19 positive, I went to bed early. I was a bit discouraged. I felt like I was trying to lead us into something we never covered in seminary, and on top of it, I was ill with a sickness that was leaving me uncertain of what the coming days would hold. I had spent time the day before talking to pastors of large multi-site churches in Pennsylvania and felt like they were leading in stride, making a difference. I felt inadequate at best. As I lay there praying, I sensed God saying, “Dan, your problem is that you’re still trying to control whatever you can find to control. You’re trying to wrap your arms around stuff that you think depends on your leadership, when I’ve already told you that I’m doing it. What you have longed for is being done. Let go.” I’m learning to loosen my grip.

I’m being reminded of the Father’s heart for us.

When I ponder what’s taking place in our world, it’s almost like we’ve been given a worldwide Sabbath, and the Father is wooing us home to his heart. Removing all the distractions. I look out over my central Pennsylvania valleys, and all I can see are his arms open wide. I keep hearing, “He is for you, not against you. You are relentlessly loved with an indiscriminate affection. That’s the story he’s writing. That’s his voice we hear, calling ‘child come home.’”

It’s been an emotional couple of weeks. Ever since I tested positive, the tears will just bubble up at the oddest times. It wasn’t fear. Some of it was concern for Lynn, for our church, for our neighborhoods and world. Some of it is just being humbled by the outpouring of prayer and encouragement from my church family and friends. But often it’s been deeper than that. As I prayed about it and kept pondering, “Where in the world did that come from?” I felt like God was giving me a little taste of his heart for us — for the world, but especially for his kids. Paul calls it being covered in his love and adopted into his family (Ephesians 1:4-5). Jesus said, “I will not leave you as orphans.” (John 14:18)

That’s so amazing and hope-giving. We give our ears and our hearts to so many distracting, condemning, shaming voices, but while we lie in bed on the verge between sleep and worry, he’s watching us. His hand is with us, and his heart is for us. He’s working the nightshift on our behalf. What your heart feels as you watch your child sleeping and you realize that you would do anything you could do to see them become everything they can be, that’s his heart for us.

He’s calling us to be hope-givers.

People are hungry for hope. I had the opportunity to do an online interview last week with a local newsgroup. A few days after it was published, it had exceeded 20,000 page views. The reporter told me that in five years of writing articles, the next closest in terms of hits was an article he did on Sue Paterno (local living legend), and this one had almost triple the number of views. I don’t think I did that great a job on the interview, but people are hungry for hope. I keep telling people that the coronavirus is not the only thing that’s contagious; hope is contagious. And if hope is contagious, love is how it spreads! Our hope is not fake. I am expectant. I’ve called Calvary to a season of travailing in prayer for the spread of hope. The pain and grief are real, but something new is being birthed.

What’s God up to at Calvary?

From day one, I told our staff that our primary purpose during this season is to seek breakthrough in three different relationships: with God, with each other and with our neighbors in hopes that they will find breakthrough in their relationship with God. As we have aimed toward breakthrough here is what I’m finding:

1. The Spirit of God is birthing a whole new desire to pray in so many people. We just completed a week of 24/7 prayer, and never before did the slots fill so fast. One person said, “I think I’m becoming obsessed with prayer and being with God, is that OK?” We are joining with other congregations in our community to pray for Central PA 24/7 until we gather face-to-face again.
2. With all the effort that so many (including us) are putting into gathering online and so much discussion about what our gatherings will look like when this lifts, I wonder if God is less concerned about how we gather and far more concerned about how we scatter. For the last four years, our primary call to our people has been to love their neighbor. We call it front-yard missions. The stories of people praying for and loving their neighbors have been my greatest encouragement. I hope we never go back to normal in this area. Let’s scatter well.
3. I’m an infamous non-hugger, so I know this is true: Distance doesn’t have to mean isolation, and even in isolation, we can love each other and our neighbors. I’m thrilled at how creatively people are connecting with each other and their neighbors. From neighbor apps to notes left in a roll of toilet paper; from posters of encouragement taped to windows to Zoom life groups; from impromptu FaceTime prayer meetings to Zoom rooms of 24/7 prayer and worship; people are connecting, caring, serving and praying.
4. God is drawing people to himself. It’s more than a trickle, not yet a cascade, but it’s happening. I’m getting reports of prodigals coming back and new children being adopted into the family.

Here’s the point, at least for me. You can’t cancel church. We are the church. Hope isn’t based on circumstances; it’s an expectancy that even in the fog of the coronavirus, God is at work. So you can’t cancel Easter, any more than you can cancel church. We live in the days when resurrection power has already been poured out. We live in the days of the Spirit of God flowing among the church. Those are our days now.

We are looking forward to the next time we gather non-virtually. We’ve decided that whenever that is, it’s going to be our Easter service. Meanwhile, I am humbled and hopeful.