A city’s gradual emergence from the coronavirus shut down corresponds to a certain atmosphere in its airport. My husband and I took off our masks just long enough to eat subs at a socially distant table, and then, our masks back in place, we settled ourselves near Gate A-3 to wait out the remainder of a three-hour layover in Baltimore.
A pair of uniformed airline employees on their lunch break caught my eye. She, brown-eyed and animated; he, somber and attentive; it soon became obvious this was no business lunch. Their masked interaction at the corner of my eye distracted me from the book I was trying to read.
“What in the world,” I wondered, “would it be like to date with mandatory masking? Has Cosmo addressed this in an article yet?” I smiled beneath my own mask as I invented titles and tag lines: “COVID-19 Mask Moves: Let Him Know You’re Interested!”
Drawn again to their soft laughter, I looked up just in time to see the young woman lower her mask, unveiling the full radiance of her dazzling smile. It seemed so intimate a gesture.
I turned back to my book.
In the spring of 2020, we have all been masked and hidden. Perhaps, in all our safe separation and invisibility, we have forgotten that there is One who sees all, and before Him, we are free to come with unveiled faces.
I’m writing over at (in)courage today about the beauty of an unveiled life before God. It would be a great gift if you’d join me there and add your thoughts and your concerns. How can we pray for you specifically so that the brightness of God’s glory may be put on display in your home and community?
Leaning into the risk of an unveiled life,
By the way, a visit to (in)courage has been part of my morning routine for years, because it’s a place where I consistently find biblical encouragement in a voice that sounds like grace. If that sounds good to you, too, go ahead and click here to subscribe so you can begin to receive regular email reminders that the door is always open there.
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