Written By: Lily Fluharty

“Please, please go home!”

I begged the kids while trying to explain a virus I didn’t really understand and that quarantine meant I wouldn’t be able to leave the house.

Two weeks felt like a long to be separated from the kids and there were so many unknowns weighing heavily on my heart. Those two weeks have extended into three months of strict quarantine in Santa Cruz and there are more and more cases of COVID-19 and the hospitals are near collapsing and we aren’t sure when the quarantine will be lifted.

I thought I would have no contact with the kids and knew all I could do was pray.

And God surprised me with blessings like phone calls with a group of kids who were taken to a government run shelter. As the quarantine got longer, several more kids returned home. Even the kids who stayed on the streets would call just to let me know they were doing ok. 

As the weeks turned into months I shared my struggles honestly with God as worry for my kids overwhelmed me.

He would quiet my heart and remind me again and again that He is in control. To be honest I was amazed at the change I saw in myself as God changed my restless, mama bear, impatient heart and gave me a deep sense that He was caring for the kids.

There were still moments where I would step into the bathroom and cry my eyes out knowing that God saw every tear and yet still loved me and would keep walking alongside of me. 

As God quieted the storm in my heart, I could feel the spiritual battle going on around me.

I stabbed my foot with a piece of metal and couldn’t walk for a week, I got sick with dengue, and the lamb I had been bottle feeding and that followed me everywhere was eaten by a fox. And on top of those things the quarantine kept getting longer and longer. As God led me through each new thing I kept seeing His faithfulness but I also kept thinking,

“What else can happen in just a few short months?”

During this time, God opened the door for me to get some help to some of the families and kids we work with. I was thrilled and terrified at the same time.

I would go out on Thursdays to bring food families and also to take one of the teenagers to the hospital after he broke his arm and got stabbed by a machete. Each time I went out I was filled with thankfulness that I could be a light to the kids and remind them even from a distance and for a few short minutes that they are not alone. I saw a hopelessness in the eyes of the kids on the streets. They were alone and I saw their hunger for hope.

I would come back home, take off the facemask, change my clothes, disinfect everything and panic.

What if I get Covid? What if I spread it to the family I am staying with? What if I die while I am far away from my family and leave them with that hurt?

I would feel so much fear overwhelm me. Finally I sat down and prayed. I knew God had opened the door for me to go out and bring help to those who needed it.

“God take away this fear. If you want me to go out, fill me with peace. I will go if you go with me.”

And over the next two weeks I felt God answer that prayer. I had so much peace and joy as I rode my bike to help the families and kids that needed it. 

Then on a Monday morning I woke up with a headache which turned into a fever and body aches over the next two days. “It’s just a cold.” I thought. But my headache continued and then I couldn’t smell air freshener… the kind that smells really really strong. I journaled, “Who even knows what the crap this is!?”

On Wednesday I stayed in my room and started to self isolate just in case it was Covid. As more symptoms were checked off the list I felt a deep sense of peace even in the midst of so many unknowns.

“Give me joy God. Even closed off in my bedroom, give me joy.” I prayed over and over again. Over the next week I felt this strange joy fill me. I would laugh out loud for no reason and I wondered if it was God given joy or if I was going crazy from isolation. God was in control. He was with me. 

But there were also moments of fear. I didn’t want those thoughts to rule me and I journaled in order to process and pray. Fear for the family I was staying with and for the kids made my heart ache. I journaled,

“I keep thinking about what I could say to my kids if I only would tell them one thing. Strictly one thing. I obviously want them to know I love them but the most important thing is “God loves you.” So simple yet that changes everything. Everything. It means acceptance and love and that brokenness will be put back together. It means life and love and a family. God loves you means being seen. It means that the night will be over. This life is short. I could go home with Jesus tomorrow or Jesus could come back in the next five minutes. But what I want to leave behind is this- God loves us. God loves you oh broken and hurting. You are seen and loved and treasured.”

The dad of the family stood outside my door one afternoon to see if I was ok. “Are you afraid Niña?” He asked me. I shook my head. I wasn’t afraid. Not for myself.

God has led me so faithfully over the years and I knew he would lead me through this. My worries were more for the others around me. I didn’t want to be that person who spread the virus. And all I could do was give up these fears and trust Jesus even more.

“No distrust made him waver concerning the promise of God, but he grew strong in his faith as he gave glory to God, fully convinced that God was able to do what he had promised.” Romans 4:20-21

These words soothed my heart. The joy and peace returned. A week after the symptoms started, I tested positive for Covid. As I looked at the results and after talking to my family, I felt tears slip down my face. The heaviness hit and once again I fought for peace and asked God for joy. I had seen his faithfulness again and again throughout the quarantine and I knew that God would carry me through. I wasn’t scared, just a little overwhelmed by it all. 

As I write this I am still in isolation. God has been so gracious and I have had a mild case of Covid-19. I am on the mend and am so thankful for the community around me who have prayed, called, sent medication and encouraged me. I am thankful for the dear family who has left food outside my door and made sure I was ok this whole time. I am so thankful that God has protected them and no-one else has gotten sick. I am unbelievably grateful for my kids who have called me to check in and told me they are praying for me.

That is the most beautiful gift. Knowing that through this, the kids are seeking Jesus. 

God has led me so very gently through this quarantine and through Covid and has taught my worried little heart to keep trusting Him with my own life and the lives of those I love. He is teaching me to follow Him no matter the cost and trust Him. As long as He is leading, I want to follow. He has given me joy when I was forced to slow down and been enough when I had to be alone and isolated for a few weeks.

This isn’t a story of quarantine, Covid, and lambs being eaten… not really. It’s a beautiful story of how God is near and gently teaching me to keep trusting Him no matter what and to follow Him wherever He leads.