Breinthewild

The virus has been around for a bit but schools officially closed in Oregon today. (The Governor officially announced the order Thursday night). Things went from ‘this is like the last swine flu scare’ to ‘this is unprecedented‘ in about 5 seconds.

I’m lucky. I’m young. My job is in no danger of cutting my hours. I have God and family and community surrounding and supporting me in this time.

And yet.

Though I can’t see the brunt of the impact in my life yet, I see it all around me. Each move to make the public safe–closing down nearly every professional sports league, closing Disneyland, banning groups of more than 250 people–has a cost. It’s paid for by young families living paycheck to paycheck. By single mothers and fathers whose work has shut down or who can’t come in because they now have to care for their kids. On and on it goes.

But then too is the cost of not doing all this. Of letting life continue unhindered and ignoring the warning signs until they’re too late. And that cost is counted in human lives.

I’m glad these changes are in place if they help save even a few people. But in the meantime, I’m unsure of what to do, and I figure I’m not the only one. This will change the landscape of America and the world forever. And I’m living through it.

What I can do, for now, is my part. I can leave space, wash my hands, stay home when I don’t feel well. And I realize that I’m blessed to even have the option to do those things easily and I hope that everyone else with access to those options choses to do the same. Because, as simple and cheesy as it may sound, that’s the only way we stop this thing. Together (but apart).