It’s all too easy to find despair during a global pandemic.
Death is an ever present part of society.
People you know are getting sick.
People are losing loved ones.
It gets even harder when you have to watch people not take the virus seriously. It’s even worse when you hear people casting doubt on whether it exists at all, even as the death toll rises.
It’s far too easy to find despair when help doesn’t seem to be coming. It’s even harder when you might not have a job, or a place to live, and are running out of options.
Your kids are learning on tablets in laptops. You visit your parents through their door. Your hands are raw from being washed for the 300th time that day.
You just want to get through the day without that dreaded phone call that someone has the virus.
It’s far, far too easy to let the dark thoughts linger, to let the black seas rise, to let the voices creep in, to let ever tumultuous times keep you down.
It gets easier and easier each day to want to give up, to throw in the towel.
It is in these times that one must find their lighthouse in the storm.
Should you need a beacon of hope, I suggest you cast your gaze on the nearest hospital. Their days are even darker. They’ve been in the thick of it since March. They’ve lost their coworkers. They’ve gotten sick.
And yet each day they come in to battle the Grim Reaper, to keep him at bay. Their faces are gouged by months of wearing masks. Scarred and bruised, they keep coming back. They are the 300 Spartans at Thermopylae. This is their charge of the light brigade. They are going into battle even though they face impossible odds.
And maybe, just maybe,
There’s a light at the end of the tunnel.
And there’s one town in Michigan lighting the torch.
There’s one city that can be proud as the Pandemic rages on, because they just might be what turns the tide.
Portage, MIchigan is not a very large place, less than 50,000 people live there. To…