Here in the Gulf Coast, we’re no strangers to the stress, fear, and uncertainty that large scale disasters can bring. It’s just that we’re used to those disasters arriving in the form of intense storm systems and other natural disasters. The public health crisis brought on by COVID-19 is a different kind of disaster. Instead of pulling out our 72 Hour Lutheran Disaster Preparedness Kits, we’re setting up makeshift workspaces in our homes, fashioning face coverings and masks out of bandanas or spare bits of fabric, and trying to limit our time out around other people. Parking lots and buildings that are normally full of people are now empty, or at least contain the absolute minimum of essential staff. People unable to work remotely face difficult choices about continuing to go in to work or face lay-offs or furloughs.

Photo by Aarón Blanco Tejedor on Unsplash — Photo by Aarón Blanco Tejedor on Unsplash

In some ways though, it still feels the same as those days immediately leading up to and following a natural disaster. There is a thick cloud of uncertainty and collective anxiety about what will happen next. We’re unable to do things that had been regular parts of our daily routine, we’re unable to see friends and loved ones in the same way. Our sense of “normal” has changed.

These days and weeks now (it’s been a full month since we last gathered in person to worship at +KINDRED), have been traumatic. I didn’t realize it myself until I lost myself in a good 30-minute binge of articles and reflections on the mental, emotional, and spiritual impact of this global pandemic. This article from Upworthy laid it out plain and simple for me:

“…many of us likely haven't thought about this experience as "trauma" because it hasn't been one single event. It's a slow emergency of sorts, one we had to prepare for before we saw it for ourselves. And now we're living in a weird state of limbo where nothing feels normal, widespread worry and uncertainty surround us, and yet it's all covered in a thin veneer of calm.

That veneer is deceptive. On the surface, we're just being asked to sit at home and watch TV—what's so traumatic about that? But simplifying it in such a way denies the entire reason we're doing it—to prevent mass death and suffering as much as possible. That's a heavy reality. We've had to upend life as we know it in order to preserve lives in general.

And yet even with our seemingly extreme efforts, we're still watching the numbers climb and seeing the terrible stories. Even if we aren't directly impacted, we're still immersed in it and experiencing trauma vicariously. If we have any sense of empathy, we will have an emotional response—one that we might not recognize since this is like nothing we've experienced before“

What we’re going through is traumatic. It’s going to affect us all in different ways, and the way you feel may vary from day to day - heck even minute to minute!

If you follow us on Facebook, you’ll find a series of posts that ran last week (04/07 - 04/10) addressing the multitude of emotions this pandemic has stirred up within us. Being able to reflect on our experiences and emotions and name what we’re feeling is a valuable tool for processing these events and the way they have changed our world. There’s no “wrong way” to feel when something traumatic happens. Anger, anxiety, fear, depression, and apathy are all valid emotions.

You’ll find the texts from those Facebook posts below. As you reflect on them know that we are praying for you and here to support you during these times. Be well y’all, be well.

Day One: Grief

If you've been feeling...out of it: sad, angry, tired, confused, but you can't seem to put your finger on any one reason...you're not alone.

What you might be feeling is grief.

We know grief to be something that happens when someone dies. But grief can happen in a myriad of ways and for a million different reasons.

Grief is a response to loss.

A way that we can care for one another during this time, is to make space for all the things we're grieving, big and small.

And so, you're invited to write down in a journal, or in the comments below, what you are grieving right now.

We don't have to worry about fixing things for people, right now - in fact, that can be one of the least helpful things to do. For now, it is enough to bear witness to people's grief and pain. It is enough to say: I hear you. That's so hard.

Over the last several weeks many things have been lost. Jobs, reliable incoming, housing, any semblance of a regular schedule, routines, time with friends and loved ones, the opportunity to spend time in shared public spaces with other people. Not to mention those who have contracted the virus and lost their health, or their lives, and those who will lose their loved ones to this virus.

As we ease into Holy Week, a week that is, for many of us, full of embodied and communal traditions we might be feeling this grief in a more profound way. We won't be gathering as we normally do. Feeling these losses is important, even though our instinct might be to ignore them or push them away. You are not alone in your grief.

Day Two: Anxiety

This is a time of heightened anxiety and stress. For some of us, our normal levels of anxiety and stress are feeling off the charts as the news and updates about this virus roll in and the patterns and routines of our lives rapidly devolve and change into some new and disjointed way of being. For others of us, we may be experiencing this kind of stress and anxiety for the first time. Wherever you fall on that spectrum, you’re not alone, and what you’re feeling is normal. People across the nation and world are also feeling this (check out this article from The Atlantic that details the collective anxiety people are feeling and offers some coping mechanisms. https://www.theatlantic.com/health/archive/2020/03/coronavirus-anxiety/608317/ ). There are plenty of reasons to be anxious and stressed, and while we’re not sure when things will return to “normal” (whatever that even means anymore), we know that it’s exhausting to exist in a constant state of hyper-vigilance and stress, and so we look for ways to care for ourselves.

Some common coping methods and practices for dealing with anxiety are to ground and center oneself. Grounding is a technique used in mental health care to help a person reorient themselves from intense and overwhelming emotions into the present, often allowing out of control anxious thoughts to fade away. Centering is a technique used to help people ground themselves by slowing one’s breath and mind.

Centering is also a type of prayer used by many different faiths and traditions. Centering and breath prayers are old old practices found in the monastic and Celtic traditions among other traditions.

And so, you’re invited into this practice of centering prayer. Theologian, public speaker, and author Sarah Bessey shared her own practices for breath prayer in the article linked below, check it out and see what this experience offers for you. https://sarahbessey.substack.com/p/breath-prayers-for-anxious-times

We’ll be sharing posts like this every day at noon, so if you need a place to check-in and find some resources for caring for yourself and others, we’ve got you covered. Be well, y’all. We’re in this together.

Day Three: Empathy

As we reckon with all of the grief and anxieties that this time of crisis and uncertainty have brought about, we need the support of one another more than ever. Reaching out to people we care about and who care about us is a really great way to care for one another. Talking about the things you’re experiencing and the feelings you’re having is healthy and important.

Here are a couple of tips for making these conversations with loved ones as helpful and caring as possible. 1. Take the time. Don’t rush the conversation.

2. Offer empathy, not sympathy. (what’s the difference? Watch this short video from Brene Brown: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HznVuCVQd10)

3. Pay attention to body language. Make eye contact, don’t be scrolling or checking emails.

4. Refrain from offering solutions.

5. Use open-ended, empathic, or dangling questions.

6. Ask for more.

7. Repeat a phrase or word.

8. Allow for silences.

Taking time to have these intentional and thoughtful conversations can make a world of difference in the way we care for one another.Breathe deep, and listen well, dear ones. We’re all in this together.

Community and Self-Care in the Face of Trauma