We’re all in the same storm; just different boats. That’s how I’ve been thinking about this season of life. The storm surge is greater if you factor in racial tensions post-George Floyd, the upcoming election and its aftermath—regardless of what happens, not to mention homelessness and instability around our police force with its corollary increase in crime.

We’re all in the same storm... There’s some aspect in which weathering the same storm is a great equalizer. We’re all facing similar challenges: rains falling, waters rising, and winds blowing and beating against us. We’re all facing similar fears, anxieties, and doubts that arise as we feel the waves spilling over into our boat. But as I look around, even though it’s the same storm, there are different boats. And those boats navigate the water differently. Some of these boats are fancy yachts - spaciousness abounds; others are cramped motorboats with numerous people packed in. Some boats, depending on their motor size, seem to move easier through the water. Some of us are floating with enough money or jobs or family nearby. Some kids will have in-person learning, homes with trampolines, or street blocks with other kids the same age, and parents who share the same philosophy around COVID. They seem to be navigating it easier. Boat envy abounds.

But it’s funny: what appears to be an enviable boat from afar in the rain isn’t always so great once you’re close-up. I watch moms with little ones on our block play happily outside for hours in splash tables. I wish my teenagers would spend more time outside off screens. I think about this as I walk by and say hello, gazing into their exhausted eyes. They look at me waltzing by, with my potty-trained kids.   

As I seek to navigate this storm as an individual, spouse and parent, responsible citizen and concerned community member, as well as a leader in the church, here are two phrases I’ve found to be anchors for me in the midst of the turmoil: flexibility and generosity of spirit.

Flexibility. Trust me: I like structure. I want to know the plan. This has served me well in leadership roles. But a good sea captain alters course based on the climate. The climate right now is: unpredictable and evolving. I prefer sunny and certain. But the winds are so strong in this regard, it just seems futile to try and fight it. 

Hospitality industries and medical providers have figured this out and …you got it, adapted. Now, if you cancel any hair, doctor, dentist, hotel, etc. appointment because of Covid-19 like symptoms, those fees are waived. Of course, that has an impact on their workflow and schedule. But they adjust. Governors speak of dimmer switches and dials and phases at each press conference.  And at each one, the message is repeated: this is what we’re doing now; it may change based on infection rates or other unpredictable variables. Every appointment I make seems to have this subtext: subject to change.

So, as much as I dislike it, I’m trying to embrace flexibility as part of my new climate. I make plans weeks ahead with my kids’ friends. The day of the event comes and one child has a headache and 99.2 fever. Out of an abundance of caution, we keep that kid home, but then spend the next little while reconfiguring so not everyone’s hopes are dashed. This grates against every efficiency bone in my body. But I’m trying to get used to it. Because I think this storm doesn’t look like it will be over any time soon.   

And…generosity of spirit. Because we are all in different boats, it means we are all navigating the storm differently. Age, health, household occupants, occupation, and more, all impact the decisions people are making. We’re all weighing how to balance safety from Covid-19 infection or spread with what we think is critical for physical, mental, emotional, and social health. 

I’m proposing a judgment-free zone on these waters. In our interactions with neighbors, co-workers, family members, friends, let’s commit to assuming we are all doing the best we can.  We may choose differently from someone else, and someone else’s choices may affect how you interact with them. But when we disagree, let’s be charitable. We don’t know how their boat drives or what factors they’re working with. We don’t have to make the same decisions as them, but we do have to assume they are doing their best with the information they have. Otherwise, when this storm calms, I’m not sure we’ll have many around us on the water.

One of my favorite mic-drop moments in Jesus’ teaching is at the end of his Sermon on the Mount in Matthew 7:24-27 where he tells the story of two builders: one who builds a house on the sand; and one who builds his house on the rock. What I always find so striking about that story is that in each case, the rains fall. Both houses endure a storm; the one on the rock doesn’t get to bypass it just because it’s on a rock. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house; yet it did not fall because it had its foundation on the rock. We are all in the same storm; just different boats. Let us respond appropriately to the current climate with flexibility and generosity of spirit. And more importantly, let us ride out this storm not just in our boat, but on our Rock. For He has promised to be faithful, and indeed, He is.