Love in a time of corona

At the beginning of spring, I returned to America quietly. In light of the global pandemic, all eyes focused on the corona virus and how it would affect everyone on a personal level. I saw no reason to distract from that, and so quarantine was a time of blessed rest. I couldn't see friends in person, and I still felt strange about conducting a social life through video chat. Ironic. One would think that this technological age prepared me for such a time. But it seemed ridiculous that with friends just down the street, the only way to see them would be though a screen. I came back from living in Greece for a year, living a life that was incredibly new to me, and yet I've had precious little chance to tell people about it. But this is not a story about Greece.

In one year God redirected my life in a way I would never have foreseen. He sent me to Greece, opened up doors for me to volunteer in Spain for a week during Europe's holiday high season, and introduced me to an amazing man in a way so creatively comedic, that only He could mastermind. I never imagined that saying "yes" to God in one area of my life meant He would shower me with His blessings in a completely different area. It was as if He was saying, "Just trust me, Lissa. Show me you can trust me, and I'll show you what I have in store."

And then He did.

However, coming back to Oregon in the midst of "stay home, stay safe" hasn't granted much opportunity to share with friends the magnitude of this whirlwind relationship. I was blessed with a beautiful set of friends in Athens who excitedly supported me through this long-distance relationship (and we were long-distance from the beginning!). They listened with patient smiles as I questioned skeptically if this could be real. If he was real. They let me talk through my doubts while I was still bewildered by a man pursuing me from the other side of the continent. They would even let me sing his praises in awe and wonder. And whenever Mat would come to town, they eagerly asked to meet him to see if he lived up to the picture I had painted for them.

And he did.

But now, as spring is slipping into summer, I have shared with precious few people about the man who relentlessly pursued me. The corona virus has given new meaning to the term "being flexible"; disrupting our lives not with its destructive hold on our lungs, but by throwing all sense of planning and timelines out the window. I've patiently (and sometimes impatiently) waited 35 years to meet the man God had in store for me. Thirty-five years of being baffled by the world of dating, resting just on the fringes of the wonderful mystery of love. Thirty-five years of wondering if perhaps I really was meant to be alone. And while I'm thankful for technology (despite it not working regularly), I find my patience wearing thin because we don't know when we will be reunited.

You see, I'm supposed to be engaged right now. And in my mind, I feel like I am. An engagement simply signifies the intentions of two people to get married and actively take steps in that direction (i.e.: plan a wedding!). Yet, as an American, we have certain traditions that proclaim us engaged...or not. A proposal is the official beginning of an engagement. And as one friend pointed out: "no ring, no engagement." Deep down in my traditional mindset, I would be inclined to agree. But if I am honest, I am devastated by the perception and would rather throw such nonsense out the window. It's not our fault both his country and mine will not allow us to be together due to lockdowns and flight bans. And so I sheepishly tell people about Mat, hedging around the most important detail I want to share, realizing I am missing the tell-tale ring on my left hand. Being intentionally vague isn't my style. Being sheepish isn't either. But how can I possibly tell people we are getting married without a ring? How do I explain planning a wedding when I'm not technically engaged yet?

However, the worst part about our situation isn't that we aren't engaged, but that we have to be separated without knowing when we can see each other again. We aren't in the same city, just at opposite ends; leisurely dating until the world calms down and we can put our plans into action. We aren't in the same country even, separated by a few hours' drive. No; we have an ocean, a continent, and 9 time zones between us. We live in two countries that have banned travel between each other. We try to console one another, saying it's only temporary (and in my mind I know this to be true). But the truth is I can't even use a countdown to look forward to being reunited because there simply isn't a definitive date.

I am praying for the Lord to direct our steps. I am praying for a patient heart and a joyful spirit.

As much as I am trying to follow the stay-home orders, my heart is hurting for local community. Being separated from Mat is hard enough, but it is compounded by being separated from friends I've known for years. I want to support my community and be supported in return. I hate feeling adrift, without direction, and this spring has felt like that as I've stayed cooped up at home. Although I may not have Mat to visit just a few blocks away, I do have a town filled with friends. And so as the calendar tells me I am now 35, it is time to reconnect with my people. :)

For now I wait 8,487 kilometers away, praying that Mat and I can be reunited. He's a pretty special guy after all. He's the man teaching me what it means to love as Christ loves. He's the man showing me every day what it means to love, honor, and cherish. And I am blown away. My daily prayer is that God will show me how to love in return.<3 br="">

Leaving in a flurry...and arriving quietly.

It has been fully eleven days since I returned from Athens, Greece, and have finally found the energy and desire to be productive. While my entire experience in Athens cannot be contained in a simple blog post, I can write about leaving and returning to Oregon.

Almost two years ago I entered a season in my life where God asked me purposely to hold my plans loosely, to let Him lead, and leave room for changes in my future vision. I said yes, but the last two years have not by any means been easy.

I am, by definition, a planner. I love to sketch out what my life will look like weeks, months, even years down the road. It provides structure and gives me some semblance of control over things when so much around me is out of my control. When plans change due to unforeseen circumstances, I tense up and get frustrated.

No! This is not how things are supposed to be! This is not how we planned it!

At that point, I scramble for ways to still achieve the same outcome even if the path to get there is different. I am flustered and irritated, but still try to regain control of the situation. This is my natural reaction to changes that are thrust upon me. I know, it's not pretty. I learned years ago that I am not a spontaneous person; not someone who can easily 'roll with the punches'. I will try to make the most of my situation, but that doesn't mean I will enjoy the process.

For this reason, my last five days in Athens was one plan falling through after another, and me scrambling to pick up the pieces and still make things work. It was a stressful disaster. I even struggled turning the situation over to God, even when I knew this was the very first thing I should have done when I got a hint of life shifting around me. It was as though I held sand in my hand and it kept slipping through my fingers. God wanted me to trust Him in His leading. Looking back now, I can see I was Peter walking out to Jesus on the lake, then looking around at the enormous waves and sinking. Yet He still caught me and brought me to a place of rest several days later in the form of self-quarantine under the watchful eye of my mother.

Slowly, over the course of a month, as news of the coronavirus continued to spread more and more, precaution became concern, which turned into alarm. We could see it all unfold in Asia in the comfort of our homes in Greece. But when it began spreading quickly through Europe, Greeks became distressed. It's incredible how quickly things changed in two days' time. People suddenly cared about all the germs on surfaces and cleaned in a frenzy. No one wanted to touch anything on the bus (I never wanted to touch anything on public transport!). Rumors spread of restrictions in shopping and transportation; then these rumors became reality as dining options became take out/delivery only. Travel alerts came from the US Embassy in Athens. And then on Wednesday, March 11, full-blown panic spread as President Trump announced the travel ban on European flights.

I received many concerned messages throughout the next two days since I was due to fly to the US on March 25. And the thoughts flooded in...Would I be able to get home? Should I change my flight? Do I need to leave right now? Each well-intended message caused anxiety to settle deep in my heart and mind. And my response was the same: "Yes, I've seen the report, but US citizens can still enter the country if the flights are operating." I hoped to reassure myself with every reply.

However, there were even more complicated issues at stake here. I was due to fly to Belgium on March 21 for several days before making the journey to America. But at this rate, would I even be able to make it to America if I wait? I was supposed to meet my boyfriend's family for the first time, and he was going to fly in from Spain for the introduction. But the trip to Brussels was hastily called off in light of a couple glaring reasons. The first being, Mat couldn't even make it out of his city, let alone to Belgium. And secondly, it would be unwise to visit his parents seeing how quickly the coronavirus spread.

And so under the advice of several people, the decision was made to leave as soon as possible. There was no reason to wait until the 21st, only to fly to Brussels and sit in a hotel for four days before flying home. There was also no reason to wait until the 25th (two days ago!) to fly to Brussels to catch a connecting flight home. Why wait when airlines were cancelling their flights in a frenzy?

On March 13 the hunt for a new flight began.  And the tears flowed. And I cursed in a room that looked like an earthquake shook my clothes out of the closet. And then I called Mat who lived over 3,000 kilometers away who calmly said he'd take care of it. Now I am not one to play the role of a damsel in distress -- ever -- but I am thankful he played the part of knight in shining armor so well.

Later that night I was hosting my own going away party -- my last 'hurrah' to celebrate the friendships I had made throughout the year. I had been organizing and packing like crazy, all while trying to look up flights with Mat. However, since airlines were being swamped with people snatching seats, cancelling bookings, or rerouting flights, airline websites were overloaded and weren't responding. It was torture preparing for a party with so much anxiety flowing through my veins.

An hour into the festivities I got a text that truly allowed me to relax and enjoy the company of my friends. The booking request had gone through! I would be flying out early on March 16. The rest of the night was filled with laughter, food from around the world (I am blessed with an international group of friends), and games. At one point a friend commented on how calm and relaxed I was in light of leaving in just a few days. She had no idea just how anxiety-riddled I was just a few hours earlier! As difficult as it was to say goodbye to friends -- we couldn't even hug goodbye with the virus looming over our heads -- I was so thankful that God brought each of them into my life.

The next two days were filled with cleaning and more sorting/packing -- what would remain in storage and what I would take back to America with me. I gave myself a deadline, beat it with a half hour to spare, and even found time to meet up with a couple more friends for goodbyes. I could not sleep at all, I was so anxious. Before I knew it I was standing in the check-in line three hours before my flight to ensure I still had a seat on the plane. The first leg of the journey took me to Istanbul where I had a short layover before flying to San Francisco. A myriad of thoughts filled my head: what if I didn't make the connecting flight? What if the flight was cancelled? What if I was questioned or detained because of extra measures for the coronavirus?

I was still so overcome by the wind and the waves, that all I could do was cry out to God to save me; all the while He was holding my hand saying "Why do you doubt me?" Despite my fears and anxiety, my journey was incredibly smooth. Luggage was not lost. Flights were not delayed. And customs was quick. My briefing with the CDC officer who met me after customs was short. Even my last flight to Pasco arrived a half hour early. Every little step was reassurance from God that He was still in control.

It was almost midnight by the time I arrived in Hermiston, but I knew the worst was over; my anxiety could be laid to rest. I was almost immediately sequestered in my room. After almost 48 hours of being awake, and a well-deserved shower, I could finally sleep in my own bed.

Self-quarantine -- or isolation as some prefer -- could be viewed as lonely and detached. After all, I was in my own home but haven't been able to touch my mother, brother, or sister-in-law since returning eleven days ago. And I suppose in some ways it is. But for me, this has been the best scenario for a return, all things considered. My original plan included coming home, turning in paperwork to begin working again, and trying to get sub jobs as soon as possible. God knew I needed rest, and time to process not only my last week in Athens but also my last year there. It has been incredible to be able to sleep, read, pray, and eat home-cooked meals from the comfort of my bedroom. And let's face it, I've also been catching up on American TV. But it has been so peaceful to just be without expectations, without waking up early, and even without responsibility. This is the beautiful silver lining of isolation.

God knew I needed solitude. He knew I needed a calm in the midst of the storm. Although this pandemic sweeping across the globe is certainly a storm, it has given me -- and all of us who are in isolation -- time to be. Time to think. Time to evaluate and re-evaluate our lives. And I realized, we don't need to fill our agenda with one event after another. We don't need to distract ourselves.

We need to be still, and know that He is God. (Psalms 46:10)