A moment's reflection

Each day, we will post a short article by one of Darton, Longman and Todd’s amazing authors, offering a personal reflection on our current situation in life. Sometimes this will be written with reference to one of their books, and sometimes about how they are living in response to the coronavirus, COVID-19 and our current world situation. We hope it will give you a taste of the depth and diversity of DLT’s list – books for heart, mind and soul that aim to meet the needs and interests of all.

Today’s post is by Ivan Mann, co-author with Vanessa Herrick of Jesus Wept and Face Value.

A moment’s reflection

It seems an age ago, but on checking my diary it was March 22^nd. The gospel reading at the 8 a.m. service had a line about a kingdom divided against itself will fall.

Division and unity have shown their colours during the Brexit campaign, and we had hoped that once the deal was done we might find our way to unity again.

Now we are faced with the spread of the coronavirus and a fractious society seeking the best way to avoid large numbers of lives being lost.

Sitting in church pondering these things and whether, as someone with MS and lung problems, I should take the option of self-isolation – not just to protect myself, but to ease the burden of anxiety on my children, who live at a distance, and also the possible burden on the NHS.

I saw in my mind an image of a sailor in the face of a storm tying himself to a mast, or of a woman surviving a tsunami by clinging to the top of a tree until help should come.

And I heard in my mind the words of St Patrick’s Breastplate:

I bind unto myself today

the strong name of the Trinity.

And later:

Christ be with me, Christ within me

Christ behind me, Christ before me,

Christ beside me, Christ to win me,

Christ to comfort and restore me,

Christ beneath me, Christ above me,

Christ in quiet, Christ in danger,

Christ in hearts of all that love me,

Christ in mouth of friend and stranger.

A kingdom divided against itself shall fall ... even my inner kingdom of conflicting emotions. I decide that I will take medical advice, and if the decision is to self-isolate I will do so for love of Christ and love of others both known and unknown.

I will bind myself to the mast … only to find Christ has bound me there first.

***

The measure of our vulnerability

I have tried to remind myself that I am bound to the mast – to the divine – but these times are testing for the world, the nation and for individuals,

Ten days later my GP phones to say that I should have no face-to face-encounters and should stay at home for at least 12 weeks.  The government’s definition of those needing to be shielded were a bit fluid at that stage and neurological diseases and interstitial lung disease were sometimes on, sometimes off.

***

The first day it was on, I reflected on some words my friend Vanessa Herrick and I drew up to define what we meant by vulnerability. I did not know when we wrote them just how many vulnerabilities I would gather, but I knew as we wrote them that they were words I would have to live and maybe at some cost.

We wrote:

At the risk of being accused of 'one-up-manship', but really for the sake of clarity, we shall define vulnerability as:

‘An openness to being wounded (physical or otherwise) which is motivated by love of God and is the outcome of a voluntary relinquishment of the power to protect oneself from being wounded.’

What these words mean for me now is that I choose to accept what comes my way in this epidemic, not as a victim, but as someone who has made the conscious choice, for love of God, to not worry about what is happening to me, but to try to support others, even a distance, by love and prayer. At the same time, for love of God, I also take the recommended guidelines to heart – to care for myself, to save my children unnecessary concern and to save the NHS from my being a burden. Both responses say ‘Yes’ to God and ‘Yes’ to life, but lay us open to the vulnerability that arises when love and pain meet, when compassion may not be enough, and some loss is inevitable.

This preemptive consent to being vulnerable means that we have a peace about what may happen to us because, in our mind, our heart and our prayer, we have already encountered it.

It does not shield us from the pain or the anguish, but it fundamentally changes our inner core and our strength to bear what happens. We remain ourselves, even if in the situation we lose sight of ourselves for a while.

Over the following days the guidelines did not specifically mention interstitial lung disease.

Then on April 2^nd an email from the British Lung Foundation told me:

‘You might have heard that guidance for people living with an interstitial lung disease (ILD) including pulmonary fibrosis has been updated. We’re advising that if you live with an ILD you should start to practise social shielding now. Don’t wait to receive a letter.’

Thanks to my GP I had already started social shielding so, while grateful for the clarity given, it did not affect me.

The following day two things happened. The first was another email from the BLF advising people being shielded to discuss their end of life plan with their loved ones and health professionals. There is a stark reality about that, which stirs the heart and mind to comprehend the reality.

A few hours later I received a message that someone I knew was in hospital with COVID-19 and may or may not make it.

In the busyness of those wards, where medical staff are making vital decisions affecting us, how valuable it must be to them, to our families and to ourselves, if we have talked these things through before there is a crisis.

To my mind theology, articles of faith, are not only defined by churches and books but by our faith, tested and tried, informing these vital decisions. 

I speak from experience, as my wife died from Motor Neurone Disease. Over four years she gradually got weaker as the disease affected every part of her. She and I discussed regularly what care she wanted at various stages of her illness, as well as what she hoped for our four young children. Years ago, I consented to being vulnerable for love of God. Now I must consent to what I would choose in my last days. I need to discuss with my children what I would like and take that decision out of their hands, as it might otherwise be.

When my wife and I discussed these things some thought us morbid while we knew and experienced that having these conversations and making these decisions gave us more control over the situation and some comfort.

It is not easy but it is a way of giving our loved ones peace.