No other year in recent memory has been more defined by the gap between expectation and reality. In the wreckage of 2020 are plans disrupted, dreams deferred, and countless lives irrevocably changed.
We wanted a kind of time capsule that would show what 2020 felt like for Christians on the ground. Although we could not travel, the pandemic experience has been both isolating and communal. Amid all the loneliness, we have shared a collective experience. What believers endured in one city is much the same as what they endured in another.
CT asked photographer Jeremy Cowart to capture pieces of that experience at his studio in Nashville. What we received are stories of loss and gain, suffering and joy, struggle and hope—and beneath it all, a sense of the presence of God and the work of Christ among us.
Photo by Jeremy Cowart“One of the beautiful things about this difficult season is how it has made me appreciate the relationships in my life more. I’ve actually grown closer to some of my extended family and friends. Often that interaction was merely over the phone, but it clarified how important and precious the people in my life are. Each one is a gift, a little piece of God’s image.”
Nathan Harden works from home as an editor and communications manager. He has spent most of this year trying to navigate the isolation of living alone.
Photo by Jeremy Cowart“I have witnessed my colleagues and their family members fall ill to this virus, require hospitalization, and even die. I have feared for the safety of my family. I have held the hand of patients actively dying alone. I have battled insomnia and paranoia. I have found God’s presence to be an anchor. I have found peace and confidence, not in the absence of danger and threat, but in knowing I am not alone.”
Celeste Kuriakose is a critical care nurse who has worked in a COVID-19 ICU since March.
Photo by Jeremy Cowart“I know that the King of the universe exists in close proximity with sorrow, the man of sorrows who is acquainted with grief. It’s kind of a paradox. I feel the absence of goodness, the absence of truth. Yet at the same time, I know with confidence, when I’m quiet, when I listen to that still and quiet melody of the Creator inside of me, that there is purpose through all of this.”
David Zach is lead singer for a band that partners with The Exodus Road, an anti-sex-trafficking organization. His work with Exodus has been on hiatus since the pandemic began.
“I hate being alone. I love being around people. The toughest part has been learning to deal with the isolation. This year has been a season of realizing that I can’t do it on my own and that I need to lean on God even more than I was before.”
Tevin Lucas is founder of The Hope and Love, a nonprofit devoted to suicide prevention. He had hoped to play for the NFL this year, but COVID-19 crashed the free agent market.
Photo by Jeremy Cowart“My faith feels so blind, and I feel that I’m holding on to all I got. I can see all of my insecurities really well. I can see all of my desperation. With everything with COVID and my mother’s health, the fear was so deep. I feel very desperate for the hope and comfort I have in Christ.”
Shaina Arb takes care of her daughter. Her mother, who had eight children, died of stage 4 lung cancer at age 55 this year.
Photo by Jeremy Cowart“Honestly at first I was very stressed about it. I had no idea what was going on. I didn't know what was going to happen with my job. I didn’t know what was going to happen with my health.
My church reached out to me, every couple of weeks or so, and asked me what I need prayer for. I told them about my anxiety and it reminded me that at the end of all this, ‘God wins.’”
Rahaf Amer began this year on the executive staff of a culinary company. After business ground to a halt, she ventured out on her own and now works as a private chef.
Photo by Jeremy Cowart“Before COVID my prayer life was more traditional. I would actually consciously take time just to sit there and kind of be present with God and pray about whatever was on my heart. But throughout quarantine, I would just start having conversations with Him at the most inopportune times when. I would be driving DoorDash and find myself just talking to him while I was on the road for a couple of hours. My prayer life today is less conventional looking and I more comfortable taking things to him whenever I feel like it instead of having scheduled time every day.”
Ashley Ruiz was hired as a marketing manager for a mental health and substance abuse nonprofit only for the offer to be postponed once COVID-19 hit. In addition to running her nonprofit The Laundry Project, she spent much of the year doing food delivery before she was offered her job back at the end of the summer.
Photo by Jeremy CowartEven though I already worked from home and did a lot from home, there were days where I felt like I woke up and I could do nothing. I couldn't fold laundry. I couldn't write behind my computer. And all I could do was binge Netflix or Hulu. So I forced myself to write five things I was grateful for every day, whether they were silly or serious.
“I don’t think I questioned God about this year. I questioned the world more than God. I prayed a lot and told God I was confused about what was happening and that I was sick of masks and the words ‘new normal.’”
Crystal Hodges is a writer and speaker. She and her husband have spent this year working to become foster parents.
Photo by Jeremy Cowart“I helped develop the first protocols we used during those summer months. I was then furloughed two days after my grandfather passed away. I was unable to be by my grandfather’s side when he passed or grieve with my family and the community that loved him. We had to wait five months to embrace my family and grandmother and put him to rest. I feel blessed we were able to say our goodbyes then, as I know many have not been able to.”
Jenni Wright began the year as a primary care nurse practitioner before she, along with her fellow nurse practitioners, was furloughed. She now works as a school nurse at a charter school.
