I am in constant awe of how Houstonians handle devastating conditions. We adapt and charge forward.

All of a sudden, the world seems small.

When you see how quickly one small droplet can spread across cultures and oceans to infect societies far and wide, the world seems small.

Berg Hospitality drive-thru fundraiser

When you are mandated to stay away from public places and remain only within the company of 10 or fewer at home, the world seems small.

Yet, I interpret small as intimate. And I can’t help but feel a very close, caring, intimate relationship with everyone in our community. So I write you today with feelings of affection, concern, and, above all else, hope.

We have been blindsided by darkness and thrust into a war out of nowhere. One day we were writers, artists, restaurateurs, doctors, lawyers, homemakers, students, bartenders, secretaries, business owners — and now we are warriors. We have discomfort, sadness, anxiety, confusion and illness. But through it all — and I’m certain we are not even to the peak of devastation — we must remain hopeful, as there is no greater power than hope.

I don’t want to minimize the severity of what is going on in our world full of disruption and global uncertainty, not in any way. Even the UN Secretary calls this pandemic “the greatest test humanity has faced since WWII.” However, I can’t help but focus some attention on the positively beautiful things that come out of chaos and disaster when you shift your mindset, if only for a few minutes.

I have shed a tear at least once a day since we first learned of the Coronavirus. But not always out of fear or sadness or compassion, no. In fact, often they are sentimental happy tears, such as when I witness someone helping another. Or when I see a father and child spending quality time together while stuck at home. Or when I watch the pope speak to an empty St. Peter’s Square in the pouring rain, sending prayers all over the world. The kindness and grit I have seen among Houston’s business owners is so heartwarming. When a clothing boutique owner offers to run errands or grocery shop for his clients. When the neighborhood Italian restaurant shifts focus and becomes a grocery store that sells raw fish and vegetables. I am in constant awe of how Houstonians handle devastating conditions. We adapt and charge forward.

God: I will bring together neighbors, restore the family unit, I will bring dinner back to the kitchen table. I will help people slow down their lives and appreciate what really matters. I will teach my children to rely on me and not the world. I will teach my children to trust me and not their money and material resources.

It resonates with me. And each time I stop to dine in the evening, missing my favorite neighborhood sushi restaurant that was forced to close, I am thankful for the opportunity to sit with my family at the dinner table.