+Ten days ago, on Saturday, March 29, my laptop died. Perched on the lounge chair admiring blooming tulips in the sunshine, I was delightedly finishing up the very final edits of my new novel, The Promised Land. I closed the laptop, brought it inside, and went about my day. A few hours later, I opened the laptop, preparing to Skype with my brother and sister-in-law.

The computer wouldn’t turn on. The screen remained black. No sign of life at all. I’d received no dire warning or error message, no flashing screen or power shortage. It just died.

And nothing we tried in the next days could bring it back to life. Its pure black screen continued to stare back at me. Dead.

In the midst of so much else dying, precious human beings as well as the economy—businesses , restaurants, etc—this ‘death’ seemed grossly insignificant. And it was. To everyone but me.

My laptop is the way I work: I write on it, I connect via video calls with missionaries and family, and now, with the coronavirus and confinement, I connect to everyone and everything else on it.

But it was dead.

To add to the frustration, I had not backed up many of my files in months. Months. Normally I am so careful, but the last five months in the US had been so full, and I had neglected to back up many things.

We talked to my father’s ‘computer guy’ as well as our sons and my brothers, all smart and savvy techies. Finally, at their suggestion, we ordered tools from Amazon so that Paul could remove the back of the computer and get to the hard drive. The piece would arrive in 5 days. (I was actually amazed that anything was still being delivered).

So I limped through the week, waiting for the tools to arrive and frustrated with myself. Yet, I was also so thankful that 1) I could use one of Paul’s very old and very slow computers and 2) this was my major problem when much of the world was facing a much more frightening crisis.

But it was complicated and frustrating and day after day, I had to confess the chaos it was putting me through. I battled off guilt that my problem was simply a dead computer. I spent many moments praying for my attitude as the computer’s death was influencing so much else in my life.

I believe there are many battles in the heavenlies that we don’t see. And I believe during this pandemic that Satan will tempt us with normal life inconveniences that can grow in importance in our minds because of our present situation.

The tools we’d ordered arrived this past Saturday, a week after my computer’s demise.

I was once again sitting out in the beautiful spring weather, on the lounge chair, admiring the host of yellow, orange, and red tulips as well as the snow white calla lilies who were showing off in the sun. This time, I was reading a book.

Paul called to me, “Can you come in here a sec?”

It was odd the way he said it. Like he had a surprise for me. I knew he couldn’t have gotten me flowers because all the stores were closed. But his voice…

So I laid down the novel and walked inside and he pointed to the den. It looked just like it had looked a little while ago when I left it. Except…on further inspection, there sat my laptop, my dead laptop, with a lit-up screen and a photo across it.

I gasped. Paul shook his head. “I was getting ready to open up the back with the new tools, when I thought I’d just press the start button one more time. And voila!”

I cried. Then I knelt and thanked God.

During this holy week, where we are confined in our bodies but not our spirits, my spirit cries out again with awe and longing and joy. Hosanna to a God who can raise the dead, but who can also, much less importantly, but no less personally, raise a dead computer.

An early resurrection. In preparation for the real thing.

In preparation for YOU, Lord.

And what is my response? An overwhelming ‘Thank You’, a bowing of the head, a bending of the knee, an acknowledgement that I deserve nothing. None of us do. And yet You give, You surprise, You provide.

You provide in the middle of a pandemic in amazingly small and personal ways.

And if You can raise a computer from the dead on one extreme end of the spectrum and raise Your Son from the dead, at the other extremity, defeating death itself in that Holy Resurrection, I believe, I know, You will provide all that we need to survive this pandemic with our spirits and souls intact. Much better than simply intact.

As we press into Who You are, as we humble ourselves before You, Lord, and walk with You through all the horror and hope of this Holy Week, we will not just survive. We will thrive way down in the depths of our souls.

And our lives will testify that Jesus is able to love, forgive, and provide for us in spite of anything that life on earth hurls at us, whether it’s a deadly virus or a dead computer or any and everything in between.

Easter proclaims that You win, Lord. You win!

May we prepare our hearts this week for the real thing, Jesus, the King of kings and Lord of lords, who dies and who lives again.

ELIZABETH MUSSER writes ‘entertainment with a soul’ from her writing chalet—tool shed—outside Lyon, France. Find more about Elizabeth’s novels at www.elizabethmusser.com and on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and her blog.