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A friend and I used to have a joke between us. When things grew dark and darker still, when we couldn’t find our way, one of us would say, “I think we need to pray.” And the other invariably would ask, “Has it come to that?” It was a standing joke between us. Despite the circumstances. No matter the odds. When we didn’t know what to do or who to turn to — we would pray. The question has it come to that was the punch line. It was what brought levity to the situation regardless of what it might be.
But now, as I watch the global health crisis unfolding with a contagious virus colloquially being referred to as the Wuhan Corona Virus I would say, “Yes, it has come to that. It’s time to pray”. And I would say it without an ounce of mirth over the situation to offer. Normally, I can be a wise-cracking friend or find humor in most things when the chips are down. I have no humor for this.
As an author who reads a lot of dystopian fiction, I’ve watched the events of this virus unfold as if they were lifted straight out of one of those stories. Page after page coming to life on twitter feeds and Facebook posts, social media beating the news agencies to the punch to show what's happening even as we remain in the comforts of our home and trouble seems thousands of miles away.
The images of overcrowded hospitals, of cities on lockdown, of paramilitary bordering exits, and thousands of stranded passengers is stark and powerful. And it’s the moment my faith hits the wall of reality and inside I hear myself screaming one question — do you believe in what you profess? Do you actually feel the power of this intangible thing you call prayer makes a bit of difference on the edge of something that seems to be spinning out of control. The answer arises out of the center of my being. From the quiet place inside of me.
Yes, I believe.
I’m not just some namby-pamby prayer girl. I'm also a girl who loves science, who delves into physics, the Big Bang, and thrives on new discoveries in space. I also love studies linked to the power of words to shape and shift atoms, to co-create a continuing world is not lost on me. The power of molecules to align and whether we call it something like visualization, faith, meditation or a combination of all those things there are studies that show the difference in people's lives when they employ these concepts to overcome great obstacles. The studies that show that people who get prayed for heal much faster than those who don’t. I don’t think prayer is a placebo. I believe it is a powerful mystical mystery.
So, I write this short missive to ask you to join me in prayer for the infected sick, for the families of those who have died, for the health workers trying to serve, for first responders, and those working to contain the virus within scared city walls. For the members of the World Health Organization trying to access the situation and make calm, rational decisions for the citizens of not one country but every country on the globe. Should you ask me, “Has it come to that?” I’d invite you to look at the twitter posts from some of those eleven million (and growing) who are trapped behind walls of cities on lockdown that implore the world with a hearts-cry, “Please pray for us!”
That's what clinched it for me. Right there. I was thinking about praying and had said a little prayer, but more than actually praying I was watching the outbreak spread. Page by page, line by line, and minute by minute. Like a playbook that came straight out of the bestselling novel, Station Eleven. As everyone watched Presidential impeachment proceedings, my eyes were locked on China, watching the cases grow, double, triple. As planes left Wuhan, China, from ground zero of the contagion just before the shut-down and took off for multiple countries and cities across the globe including the United States.
Do I believe in panic? Nope, not even a bit. That’s a wasted emotion in my opinion. It serves no purpose but to increase alarm and spread hysteria. But calm, quiet, focused prayer across the board and borders can make a greater difference than many people may ever know. As such, I am committed to pray at high noon for all those affected by this virus and those already working around the clock to quickly find a vaccine, for sixty seconds or five minutes, one hour or all day. It doesn’t matter. What matters is that each day — at a time I can actually remember to do so — I will stop and lift up the situation in prayer. And I believe that in doing so, I will wield the most powerful weapon I posses against an invisible enemy.
