A Christmas like no Other
Shiru Muhoho-Minni • March 23, 2021
Trusting God amid the pandemic, Part Three
Dr Shiru Muhoho-Minni is in her 60s, and part of the singles ministry in the Windhoek International Church of Christ in Namibia. She describes her encounter with the COVID-19 virus:
“COVID who?” I asked my friend Bacy in confusion, as my mature sisters and I were lying on top of a huge rock and enjoyed one of the most beautiful sunsets I’d seen in a long time. Watching a play of colours behind the amazing Namibian sun dunes, a marvel of God’s creation; I immersed myself in a daydream, a feeling of a surreal world devoid of virus and such other calamities. My friend Bacy had asked me something about COVID-19, but in the world, I was in at that moment, COVID-19 did not exist. I was not even sure I had heard of the word before.
Fast forward to Christmas Day 2020. I was sitting at the furthest end of the garden with a plate of food served from the beautifully laid out Christmas lunch table where my daughter and niece were enjoying the sumptuous meal. They had specially prepared it to cheer me up. Although was separated from the lunch party table which I would’ve loved to be part of, spiritually I refused to be bowed down by the separation. Courtesy of COVID-19, I ended up alone in my little corner of the garden on Christmas Day. COVID-19, was the virus that in my previous self-opinionated life was a disease that affected others, not me.
It started as a little dry cough, headache and fever. Nothing to worry about, I told myself. After all, I had gone through major colds and flus before. On Day 3 of the “little flu”, I started experiencing a foggy feeling under the crown of my head. I went to the pharmacist who gave me medication for my symptoms. It then dawned on me I might have contracted COVID, but then it was a Friday afternoon–the day my doctor worked half-day. I started wearing masks and gloves; I locked myself in the bedroom for the entire weekend and sanitized myself until I started smelling like a medicine cabinet.
On the Monday, I went to see my doctor, who said that I might or might not have COVID, but I did not need a test. Instead, I should just continue with the medication that I got from the pharmacist, after all even if I tested COVID, they’d advise me to take the same medication. All I needed was to self-isolate. He further added that he was not afraid of contracting the virus after all. Everyone would get it; it was just a matter of when. His casual attitude surprised me. I went home and continued to self-isolate. I felt much better, but as luck would have it, I got a call from my doctor’s practice informing me that he had confirmed COVID positive and I should self-isolate and go for testing after three days, which I did with my niece and my daughter. Twenty-four hours later, while happily working out on a treadmill, feeling almost recovered from my little flu, the doctor’s practice called again with the results that my daughter and niece were negative but I was positive.
My emotions went on a roller coaster, I broke down crying, not because I was positive, but at the realisation of God’s mighty hand at play in this situation. I had been walking around with the deadly virus and I didn’t pass it on to my family. What a mighty God I have. I cried in thanksgiving for his protection and grace.
The COVID centre called me two days later to give me COVID survival instructions. I had to self-isolate for 14 days. By now I was an expert in self-isolation. Self-isolation became my buzz word for December 2020. As I sat, slept, read and ate in my bedroom and exercised in the garden (sometimes in the dead of the night); I went through different emotions:
Self-pity and worry–how could this happen to me? Why me? Where did I pick it from? What if it was just me and my daughter in the house, how would she have coped looking after me and herself? Had I updated my will? What if I died, who would look after her?
Weird self-diagnosis–For reasons that until now I cannot decipher, I decided that the virus was inhabiting under my fingernails, so I cut them almost to the roots, and I would check them every day to ensure that they were not growing back. I would scrub my fingers red, to ensure that I did not contaminate the rest of my body with the virus by depositing whatever my fingers were carrying. As if the virus was not already living in the same body that held my fingers in place. My nails become my number-one enemy.
Claustrophobia–Although I have burglar-proof doors and windows, which I left open day and night, I knew I could get out of the room whenever I got claustrophobic, but that did not stop me from hyperventilating every time; I remembered I was in self-isolating.
The crying–Out of nowhere, and for no apparent reason, I found and still find myself on the verge of tears. Something that rarely happened to me before COVID. I wonder what this means or what causes it.
Self-isolation had its advantages: it was time to for self-reflection on my relationship with my family, friends and others. I reflected on my contribution to the community I live in. Am I a good person? Do I give the needy from the goodness of my heart or because I want to pat myself on the back?
Most of all, I reflected on my spirituality and my relationship with God. I vowed to be a better person and count my blessings every day, whatever the situation. My love of God and appreciation of friends, family and others increased. I vowed to glorify God not only in prayer and worship, but also in action. I take count of my actions every evening before I sleep.
Am I a better person today? Yes, in some areas; in others it is a work in process; but I believe with the Holy spirit by my side I will succeed. The same God who saw me and my family through COVID-19 will take care of my future.
My encounter with the deadly virus was a humbling experience and a reminder that a little dry cough, a little headache and a little fever could kill you, your family and others you might never know. Be responsible! And God will take care of the rest.
To God be the glory!”
More from Southern African Churches of Christ
In the messy arena of human relationships, whether in marriage, the workplace, church family, or the volatile world of online discourse, we constantly feel the pull of opposing forces. One voice urges us to defend truth fiercely; another calls us to extend grace generously. This is the divine tension of disagreement: holding both conviction and compassion without letting go of either. Today, we turn to a passage that cuts to the heart of how we handle differences: “My dear brothers and sisters, take note of this: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry, because human anger does not produce the righteousness that God desires.” – James 1:19-20 (NIV) James, writing to scattered believers across the nations, doesn’t offer fluffy advice. He gives a practical, counter-cultural blueprint for godly relationships: Be quick to listen. Slow to speak. Slow to anger. These aren’t suggestions for better conversations; they are directives for producing the righteousness God desires. This passage applies to husbands and wives, children and parents, bosses and workers; everyone from the pulpit to the pew. We all need to train ourselves to be better listeners. The divine tension in James’ command Here lies the tension: Listening requires humility and self-control, while speaking (especially in defense of truth) feels urgent. Anger can arise when we perceive injustice or error, yet James holds these in balance. We must lean into listening first, restrain our tongues, and guard our hearts against hasty wrath. Why? Because “human anger does not produce the righteousness that God desires.” This isn’t a ban on all anger; Jesus displayed righteous anger in the temple (John 2:13-17). But human anger, tainted by our flesh, tends toward self-justification, escalation, and sin. It rarely births the fruit of the Spirit. The tension calls us to slow down enough for the Holy Spirit to lead, rather than our adrenaline. What science reveals about anger and “hearing” Modern neuroscience echoes what James knew by inspiration. When anger flares, our brain undergoes an “amygdala hijack.” The amygdala, the brain’s alarm system tied to fight-or-flight, floods the body with adrenaline and cortisol. This redirects resources: our heart rate spikes and oxygen flows to muscles for action, but our higher reasoning centers in the prefrontal cortex – responsible for judgment, empathy, and nuanced thinking – get suppressed. In this state, our ability to truly “hear” another person diminishes dramatically. Active listening, the tool that clarifies, disarms, and seeks understanding, becomes nearly impossible. We filter everything through threat detection, empathy drops, and we stop processing the other’s words for their actual meaning. Instead, while they are still speaking we start crafting rebuttals or counterattacks. This explains why conflicts escalate so quickly: we literally cannot hear well when flooded with anger. James’ call to be slow to anger is not just spiritual wisdom; it aligns with how God designed our brains to function best when governed by self-control rather than unchecked emotion. Recognizing our physiological limits isn’t about suppressing feelings, it’s about guarding our capacity for reason so we don’t accidentally sabotage the very justice we seek to defend. Even if the other person is operating out of a completely hijacked, high-emotion state, our calling to maintain self-control and clear thinking remains. When our prefrontal cortex goes offline, our hijacked brain defaults to intellectual shortcuts. This emotional flooding is precisely what predisposes us toward constructing caricatures, like the straw man, rather than engaging with the actual person.
On June 6, 1944, Allied forces stormed the beaches of Normandy. In the brutal hours that followed, the course of World War II shifted permanently. The enemy’s capacity to win had been broken. And yet, the fighting raged on for 11 more months. Soldiers still died; cities still burned. Berlin had not yet fallen. But every Allied commander knew the truth: what happened on D-Day determined what would happen on V-E Day (Victory in Europe Day). Victory was certain, even though it was not yet complete. Through his death and resurrection, Jesus Christ stormed the ultimate beach. The decisive battle against sin, death, and darkness has already been won. And yet, we are not yet living in the full experience of that victory. The war is over, and the war is still going. Not because the outcome is in doubt, but because we live between D-Day and V-E Day. This pattern – already won, not yet complete – is the “already but not yet,” and it is not a contradiction. It is the very fabric of the Christian life. As we’ve seen across this series, the fullness of God’s truth is rarely found in tidy, isolated categories. It is held in divine tension, where seemingly opposing realities coexist, each completing and guarding the other. And nowhere is that tension more vivid than in what Scripture says about our own salvation. The Biblical paradox The New Testament speaks of our adoption, redemption, salvation, sanctification, and resurrection in a way that constantly surprises us: as both accomplished facts and future hopes. This is not a theological error; it is the deliberate structure of a story that is already finished by the Author but still being written by the characters. Adoption Already: “You have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, ‘Abba! Father!’” – Romans 8:15 Not yet: “We ourselves groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies.” – Romans 8:23 Redemption Already: “In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of sins.” – Ephesians 1:7 Not yet: “You were sealed for the day of redemption.” – Ephesians 4:30 Salvation Already: “For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith.” – Ephesians 2:8 Not yet: “How much more shall we be saved from God’s wrath through him!” – Romans 5:9 Sanctification and resurrection Already: We are already sanctified in Christ and raised with him. – 1 Corinthians 1:2 and Ephesians 2:6 Not yet: We await final sanctification and the future resurrection of the dead at the last trumpet. – 1 Thessalonians 5:23–24 and 1 Corinthians 15:52 The same salvation is being described as past, present, and future. We have been saved. We are being saved. We will be saved. This is not a contradiction, it is the both/and of divine tension. Understanding the timeline To make sense of this, we need to understand how Scripture structures history. Jewish thought divided all of time into two ages: “This age” — the present age marked by sin, suffering, and death — and “the age to come,” when God would restore all things, defeat evil, and reign in fullness. The expectation was that these two ages would be strictly sequential: this age ends, the next one begins. What no one fully anticipated was that through the resurrection of Jesus and the outpouring of the Holy Spirit, the “age to come” broke into “this age” before it was over. We now live in what theologians call “the age between the ages.” The Kingdom of God has arrived, and it is still arriving.
In every major conflict, whether political, personal, or spiritual, there is almost always a sliver of validity on both sides. Grievances are real. Injustices are felt. Leaders on the “wrong” side can even articulate legitimate frustrations.
