I’ve been in quarantine most of 2020. At the end of January, I caught the flu. I got better then caught a bacterial infection. I got somewhat better and caught a viral infection. Finally, I had a lingering cold for weeks.
When I finally emerged, the world had changed.
I went to church at the beginning of March to find no one shaking hands, no one kissing cheeks. The physical warmth of the Greek people—touching, kissing, holding hands—was gone. It felt like I’d walked into a parallel universe. The coronavirus had come to Greece.
Over the course of the next days, public gatherings were canceled, police installed at supermarkets to make sure only so many people entered, businesses shut down and those owners who didn’t comply were arrested. Slowly, the measures got stricter and stricter until today the government imposed a total lockdown.
The new rules are so strict, it feels like something out of 1984. You have to text a number to tell officials you’re leaving the house for work, walking the dog, going to the supermarket, pharmacy, a funeral or wedding or caring for a needy family member (Though you’re also allowed out for exercise). If you don’t text the number, you must carry an official document telling your purpose for being out. Then, you must always carry your ID or passport on you. In addition, no more than 2 people can be out together at the same time. If you go to the grocery store, you need to stand 15 meters away from other people. Police will regularly be checking people who go out of their homes and those who break the rules will be fined 150 euros. Meanwhile, rumors abound that the airport will be shut down as soon as Greeks are repatriated from around the world.
The option to leave Greece during the crisis came and went quickly. I chose to stay. Here’s why:
Athens has become my home.
I want to be an encouragement to the refugees I serve and the church community I’m a part of.
My immune system is down because of my lingering illnesses heretofore this year. Traveling would expose me to the coronavirus and possibly mean a much more intense illness.
I came to Greece to serve—to serve in good times and in bad. I can be of use here, even if everything I do is remote.
I have a great community here that is checking up on me and making sure I’m ok. They even go to the grocery store for me because it’s unwise for me to go out.
I can do more here than I can at a distance in the States.
There are so many needs. Though it may be a while before I can leave my house, I can work and pray.
If I left, there’s no telling when I’d be able to return.
It’s a heavy decision to come to, being so far from my family. Yet, I feel God’s peace and rest in knowing that my family is in His sovereign care. I’m trusting that.
And so, I sit in Athens, working and writing and praying and studying, waiting to see how I can serve and love those around me. Right now that looks like quarantine lest I accidentally pick up and give the virus to someone. But when this is over, there will be a great need here. I don’t know when that will be, but I want to be on the front lines when it happens.
I feel like I was made for this—and to be here for such a time as this. I won’t lie, it’s scary. Waves of anxiety hit me every now and then, but then I remember why I’m here and who has me here and I’m immediately steadied. I’m resting in His love and praying that He keeps my family in the States safe.
So, all of this to say, I’m in Greece for the foreseeable future. I’ll update you more and more as things change and evolve. But, needless to say, I feel like I’m exactly where I need to be. I hope wherever you are, you feel the same way, too.