Hearts get pressed.

Words from an Italian doctor in the midst of this current pandemic.

"Never in the darkest nightmares did I imagine that I could see and live what has been happening here in our hospital for three weeks. The nightmare is flowing, the river is getting bigger and bigger. At first some came, then dozens and then hundreds. Now we are no longer doctors, but we have become classifiers on the treadmill and we decide who lives and who should be sent home to die, although all these people have paid taxes all their lives. Until two weeks ago, my colleagues and I were atheists; it was normal because we are doctors and we learned science and science was told to exclude the presence of God. I always laughed at my parents going to church." "Nine days ago a 75 year old pastor came to us. Gentle man, he had great respiratory problems. He had a Bible and we were impressed that he read it to the dying and they took him by the hand. As all the new doctors were tired, discouraged, psychologically and physically exhausted, when we had time we would listen to the pastor. Now we have to admit that we, as humans, have reached our limits; more we cannot do, and more people die daily. We are exhausted and we already have two colleagues who have died and others are unemployed. We realized that where what man can do ends, we need God and we begin to ask ourselves questions when we have a few free minutes. We talk among ourselves and we cannot believe that from ferocious atheists we have become believers to find our peace, asking the Lord to help us resist so that we can take care of the sick." "Yesterday the 75-year-old pastor died, which until today, despite the fact that we had more than 120 dead in 3 weeks here, we had all ended up wanting; We are destroyed because the old shepherd managed, during his stay, to bring us a peace that we no longer expect to find. The pastor went to the Lord and we will soon follow him. I have not been home for 6 days, I do not know when I last ate, and I realize my uselessness on this earth and I want to dedicate my last breath to help others. I am happy to have returned to God while surrounded by the suffering and death of my fellow men."

My heart is being pressed. Yours? I have moments as I am listening and watching to what is unfolding in our world where I feel the expanse of the magnitude of these moments press my heart. I just talked to my dad. My mom was just taken to the hospital by ambulance with fever and shortness of breath. My dad is now quarantined for a week in Charlotte. I am thinking about Lea's mom tucked away at Beacon Hall (our home). I think of God bringing our granddaughter Emma into the world and into a time of pandemic. I think of her precious new life. I think of my student friends grieving a different ending to their senior year of high school. I think about my doctor friend Tracy and his family as he puts on his Covid wardrobe day after day and serves. It's that trickling down that keeps happening. The trickling down happens in hearts. It happens whether we acknowledge or are aware of it or not. My one single heart is processing the press of these current circumstances in a particular way. That is also happening in varying degrees with a fairly large percentage of the 7.7 billion other hearts that are alive around our globe today. And that number just decreased and increased this second with all the deaths and births happening right in the middle of pandemic living and dying. It is so weighty to me that seemingly, all of a sudden, much of the world is sharing something unique and unusual in common as we encounter the press of our hearts collectively.

God tells us in His Word that what He is up to now in those who are His is conforming us to the image of Jesus. He says that he will prepare us to be his pure and blameless bride. He is making us into little Christs'. He does this by detaching us from unholy, unhealthy living and relating and attaching us to holy, healthy living and relating found in Him alone. That is the press of our hearts.... the Potter molding the clay.

And it is gloriously painful.

The words above from a new, Italian brother in the Lord are so humbling. So stirring. God allows our hearts to be pressed. And new life emerges. And it is gloriously painful.

The presence of God is not excluded.

We have to admit that we as humans have reached our limits.

Hearts get pressed.

Together, at the same time.

Until Christ is formed in us.

I am being formed this second.

There's more.