Not The New Normal
“It is imperative that we look at these modified ways of communication as a bandaid — a temporary fix. It’s something to give us space to mend and heal. But bandaids must be removed, and skin must have the chance to breathe and be touched again.”
In some ways, during this time of social isolation, I find myself more connected than ever.
In the past two weeks alone, I’ve been on more video conferences than the rest of my life combined. I’ve had countless conversations through text and other messenger apps with friends. People have emailed and reached out to check on our family. We’ve chatted almost daily with our family in the States.
And yet, after a video call with several friends recently, I found myself messaging one of them saying, “I just wish we could sit across from each other with coffee and have a conversation face to face.”
Why is it — despite my increased frequency of conversations with friends, family, and co-workers (many of which have been deeply encouraging and genuine) — I still long for more? Living in the mountains of Southeast Asia, I’m used to a life that is often isolated and lonely. Now, since this whole pandemic began, I’ve had exponentially more interaction with people. So why are these conversations not meeting my need for interaction and friendship?
Could it be that we were created for a deeper human connection that only comes through physical interaction?
I heard someone say recently that they were adjusting to their “new normal.” Although I understood what they meant, the underlying implication that this type of socially isolated living is normal made my heart drop. I feel an urgency in my soul to make sure we all remember…
this is not normal.
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I remember my first months living in our host country. I would wake up eager to check my social media for a sense of connection to the world I had left behind. I lived for the texts and video chats and status updates. But no matter how much time I spent on a screen, it often left me feeling empty and disconnected. Life is constantly calling to us, beckoning us. But try as we might, life cannot simply be watched through a screen. It must be lived.
I’m grateful for the many pastors and churches working hard to get their services online so their members have access to sermons. And I do believe this situation is causing a shift in our culture, which is bringing about some needed changes. However, it breaks my heart to think people may begin to feel that this is a “normal” way of being the Body of Christ — that we can survive (or even thrive) by watching a sermon on a screen, or “sharing” a post to spread the Good News without ever having to leave the comfort of our couch.
It is imperative that we look at these modified ways of communication as a bandaid — a temporary fix. It’s something to give us space to mend and heal. But bandaids must be removed, and skin must have the chance to breathe and be touched again. We were created to look people in the eye, read their body language, experience their embrace, and receive their friendship that is extended — not just through words, but through physical interaction. We need this. Our souls cannot fully breathe without it.
As an expat living on the other side of the world, I know this to be true deep in my bones because I have lived it. FaceTiming with my parents is just not the same as sitting with them in their living room. Messaging friends can never replace laughter over late-night Starbucks together. A livestream sermon on Facebook doesn’t feed my soul like being surrounded on all sides with other believers — hearts and spirits entwined — coming together for communion and fellowship.
I miss these things. I feel something lacking when they aren’t a part of my life. It’s a price we pay living abroad that compels me to dig deep into community and relationship right here where I live, with expats and locals alike. And although we often come from different cultures, sitting across a table and sharing a meal does wonders to level the ground and remind us that we all have one Creator. We need one another.
While we endure this season of social isolation, I want to encourage you not to embrace this as a “new normal.” We must embrace this time as temporary, all while longing for something greater — just as citizens of heaven embrace our journey in this broken world, all while longing for an eternal home. When the chaos has ended, it is vital that we let our screens go black and open our doors and arms to the world once again. If we do, I’m confident our souls will remember these are the moments and this is the life we were truly made for.