Still, while this realization of the purpose of humans being the Image of God, as well as my previous conclusions regarding the "problem" of evil and suffering, certainly made a lot of things make a lot more sense, new concerns made their presence known in my mind.
The constant cold and dreary weather of Washington state was starting to really get to me. I was sinking into depression more and more despite my best efforts to claw my way out of it, simply because there was hardly a ray of sunshine burning its way through the constant blanket of low-lying clouds. I was also more homesick than ever, and I cried myself to sleep many nights as a result of my longing to return to the Front Range of Colorado. I was also deeply, deeply afraid due to how severe the covid pandemic had become, especially with a one-term president in office who had no desire to help the country after getting decimated in the 2020 presidential election.
Things seemed bleak as ever. My strength and will to do much of anything besides lay in bed all day was waning. Anger, discouragement, depression, and fear ruled over my consciousness and seeped into the nightly dreams I seldom remembered. My relationship with my household was severely strained. Mom and I got along like two cats with our tails tied together. Family gatherings happened only out-of-doors, masked, socially distanced, etc, which wasn't ideal for Washington state in the winter. Even I, an autistic, extremely introverted, borderline hermit, was desperate for in-person human interaction beyond my immediate family. Even I needed a hug from someone other than those who lived under the same roof as me. Even I had a deep longing for community. Even I was beginning to contemplate throwing caution to the wind and, in a way, was romanticizing a lengthy hospital stay or worse.
But, whenever I found myself seated in my Xterra preparing to go into a store, wondering if the gas mask was really necessary, I quickly remembered what it was like to get sick before. Cystic Fibrosis has taught me many lessons the extremely hard way, including what it's like to be hospitalized with a severe lung infection. If I could barely handle being hospitalized with a family member by my side at all times, there was absolutely no way I could survive a hospital stay completely isolated from my loved ones, and infected with a barely understood novel disease. That, I knew for a fact!
As much as I began to hate my gas mask, rubber gloves, and the stinging scent of hand sanitizer, I knew from past experiences that the alternative was much worse. Sure, wearing masks and keeping my distance from others for so long really, really sucked. But, ya know what would've sucked infinitely more? Ending up on life support in an overcrowded ICU.
Still, I needed to get around others despite the state of the world. Fueled by this desire to stand in the presence of strangers every now and then, I made it a priority to drive to downtown Gig Harbor and just walk around, especially on weekends when it was busiest. With a gas mask fitted tightly to my face, rubber gloves, and enough hand sanitizer to supply a small army, I braved the semi-crowded streets of my small, maritime town. While it was helpful to get outside and explore every day, it failed to fill the growing desire in my heart to commune with others. I sensed that pretty much everyone I passed by on the street felt that same emptiness inside. But, that didn't make things any better or easier. Suffering is still suffering, no matter how many people are experiencing a particular type of suffering at once.
At some point, I think I just went numb. I'm having a hard time recalling my winter in Washington. All I can really recall are the gnawing feelings of emptiness, frustration, and anxiety. While I can't really say how that impacted my faith in the long term, I can safely assume that I was not very pleased with God while I was forced to endure such a harsh, dark winter.
