About a year ago I wrote two articles on the emergent COVID-19, where I discounted the impact it would have on Benedictine College and America.
I didn’t think that it would hurt us so badly, and when it did, no one was more surprised than I. Truth is, I was devastated when campus closed and when the world followed suit. In the beginning, quarantine looked kind of hopeful; everyone seemed to have a “we can do this together” attitude.
And then, as usual, the whole situation devolved into arguments and conspiracy theories.
I was left with a lot of free time, time I needed for some serious self-reflection. I needed to ask myself some serious questions about my career, life, and faith. I’ve been asking the same questions all through the year, and I still don’t have answers.
I don’t expect any, to be honest. Last year has been a mile a millisecond rush of change, both what I value and believe, and what I appreciate. I don’t have time for answers. But I have had quiet moments, which I have learned to love. Standing outside at night staring up at the sky is one. It feels like I’m staring at the unknowable face of God, where answers don’t matter.
I don’t do that enough. I’m too caught up in the ever-changing status quo. What a year it’s been.