On Choosing Sacrifice [Notes from a Pandemic: Day 13]

Today marks the halfway point of Lent, day 20 of the 40-day journey to Easter Sunday. On Ash Wednesday, our parish pastor Father John asked us what we were going to sacrifice for Lent. He urged us to look deeper than giving up a favorite comfort food or bad habit, and to contemplate instead giving up something that might change our hearts.

I thought back to one of the early years of my teaching career, when a good friend who taught history stopped me mid-rant in the teachers' lounge one day to make the observation that I complained a lot. Too much. I took what he said to heart and turned it into my Lenten practice that year. No complaining for 40 days. I didn't tell him. I figured that the best test of how I was doing would be to see if he or anyone else noticed a difference. They did. And so did I. The benefits of that sacrifice lasted long after Lent ended.

In the current political and social climate, it has been easy for me to get caught up in the swirl of negativity. I have noticed, as has my husband, that my frustration at the direction our country and world is going in (whether it's climate change or immigration or gun control or equal rights or the latest lies and mistruths coming from the White House) often boils over into angry outbursts or near-paralyzing anxiety that interferes with my creative efforts.

So I committed, sitting in my church pew on Ash Wednesday, to give up negativity and, as best I could, be a source of light and healing in the world. A lofty goal, sure, but one that might bring about the kind of change and journey to the heart that Father John was encouraging.

While there was some talk at that time of an epidemic spreading across China and into Europe that was likely to eventually reach our shores, I didn't know then the level of sacrifice we would all be asked to make in the days, weeks, and now it seems, months ahead.

We are all being asked to sacrifice, to give up some of the freedoms that we hold so dear in order to stem a crisis before the scope of its consequences becomes entirely tangible or visible. We are being told to stay in our houses, curtail our activities, work and school from home, and forego our usual forms of entertainment, from eating out to seeing a movie to enjoying an afternoon baseball game or taking in an evening concert or show.

For me, that has meant giving up several performances at the Argentine Embassy and Kennedy Center, postponing indefinitely the writing residency I've been preparing and joyfully anticipating since last fall, and the cancellation of SCBWI MD/DE/WV's annual spring writing conference. For my brother and his family, it meant cutting short a semester of teaching and learning abroad in England.

For healthcare workers, first responders, and so many others working to keep grocery stores and other essential services available, it means putting themselves at risk daily to take care of those who are ill and to ensure our continued health and safety. For many others, it means not being able to do the jobs they depend on to support themselves and their families. The sacrifices are just beginning.

Thinking about the sacrifices my mother and godmother made as refuges during and after World War II puts it all in perspective for me. I feel fortunate to have a roof over my head and a pantry full of food. I find myself wondering what I can give up, how I can scale back my consumption to make things last longer and stretch farther, what I can do to make sure there is enough for everyone. I seek out and do my best to embrace the lessons that this time of sacrifice offers. I encourage you to do the same, and to consider what doors may be opening to you even as others close.

With sacrifice come feelings of loss. Loss of what we had but may have taken for granted, or loss of what we did not yet have but were looking forward to. Not the least of these are the loss of certainty and loss of the ability to make long-range plans. And as human beings, we tend to grieve what we lose.

So yes, go ahead and grieve whatever it is you feel you have already lost or what may be taken from you in the days and weeks (and months) to come. And then take a few deep breaths and make the choice to sacrifice.