There is no lockdown on the Holy Spirit.
There is no lockdown on ‘just happening’ to meet the person he’s put on your heart in the grocery aisle, or on him healing a friend sixty miles away, or giving you the right word (you know it was him) for a colleague on a call, or strengthening you for another day in the classroom, the same room, the Zoom room.
There is no lockdown on mission.
There is no lockdown on a ‘thank you’ note on top of the bins, on a nod to a stranger passing two metres away, on a text to a friend, on lingering after the screen meeting to listen to a colleague, on reading a psalm with a seeker before the start of a workday, on offering an understanding smile to a red-eyed parent at the school gate, on leaving a meal, a cake, a Kit-Kat on a doorstep, on inviting a friend/neighbour to a YouTube service, to a mince pie outside your front door, to Zoom charades…
We may be limited in how we can gather in our church buildings but we are still God’s people with a mission in his world.
There is no lockdown on prayer.
We may not be able to go to our friend, our family, our neighbour, our boss, lay on hands, anoint with oil, but are not the Lord’s ears open? Is there any mask-muffled, visor-buffered whisper he cannot hear? Has his arm grown shorter? Or his heart less tender? Is he not always near? Does he not still speak through his word? Send his angels? Is there any wall he cannot walk through? Any place barred to his Spirit? And, in our grieving, our anxiety, bewilderment, depression, weariness, loneliness, is it not still true that the fastest way to hope begins on our knees?
There is no lockdown on grace.
There is no lockdown on access to the Father.
No lockdown on Jesus.
And no lockdown on the Holy Spirit. He goes where he wills.