The Covid-19 pandemic deprives us of our usual connections — giving hugs, spending time with family and friends, shopping, working outside of the home, and attending worship services. We find ourselves struggling with “shelter at home” orders, wearing masks and gloves while maintaining the recommended six feet social distance from others. We are feeling isolated, lonely, and physically disconnected as never before. ​

They harden my heart—these little stones in that wall built from childhood to adulthood, from pebbles to boulders of hurt. “You are ugly. You are fat. You are skinny. You smell like a rat.” These stones are heavy and weigh me down with pain. They make me fall and cry like the rain. 

These stones left from mental and physical abuse, molestation, divorce, poverty, low self-esteem, homelessness, prejudice/hate, no love or guidance. It’s hard to see the hatefulness of this world. It’s hard to see that some men have more regard for dogs than Black men. It’s hard to see hungry children without proper clothes. It’s hard for me to understand molestation, prejudice, and hate.

The one o’ clock prayer meeting had just finished at the Bethesda Senior Center. Gripping the handles of her four-wheel walker, Mrs. Liller P. Bates, known affectionally as Mother Bates, makes her way to a seat. Afternoon sunlight streams through the windows giving her face an angelic glow. To this day, she is still guided by her mother’s counsel offered years ago, to ‘always put God first.’ In a soft voice, Mother Bates explains, “Every morning that I wake up, I thank the Lord that He kept me safe, held back death and disease, and gave me another day.” ​