I feel exhausted. It takes energy to be intentional, to carry on, to maintain the basics. Please, though, let me not despise the manna.~Journal entry during the COVID-19 Pandemic

My coffee cup sits on the table by my reading chair. I note the lipstick mark that encircles the white rim. Why do I bother with lipstick when I'm at home? Yet I cling to that tube of ginger spice that I bought at the Dollar General a few days before the shelter in place mandates took effect. Little did I know then when I browsed the aisles of the store for lipstick and cheap sunglasses, that day would mark an ending to life as I knew it. Maybe that's why I smooth ginger spice over my lips in the morning, the gesture like a ritual, the bright color like a badge of assurance that all will be well.

But then the news.

Giovanni's mother, Emma, tested positive for COVID-19. 

The news is a shock. Emma lives in a care home in Italy--the country where thousands have died of the deadly and silent killer. We learn that she is asymptomatic, and this is good news, that she is not physically suffering. But like so many people all over the world, she is without the physical presence of her family. This is hard on Emma, hard on everyone who loves and cares for her. Emma is 95. Overall, she is healthy and cognitively alert. She has eyes the color of the sea. They shine with light and intelligence from her face. She loves God. She calls me "cara" (dear in Italian). You would like her. You would love her.

I boldly ask your prayers for Emma. Pray for her peace. Pray that she would experience the presence of Jesus, His tenderness, His love. His protection. Pray that she would live. That we would see her again.

I put on more lipstick, my hand over my heart, as I pray for Emma, perhaps the brightness of the ginger spice another gesture, like an emblem of faith that she will be well.