Once upon a time, I wrote TV ads for Corona — the beer, not the virus. But that tagline may still apply.

Corona. “Change your whole latitude.”

I’m a wife, a mother, a writer, and an obsessive over-planner. I plan hours, weeks, years, and decades into the future. If I’m honest, I know I waste much of today planning tomorrow.

And now I have no idea what tomorrow looks like. Will we get sick? If we do, will we know? How long will we stay isolated? Will my kids ever go back to school? Is “Tiger King” really the best Netflix has to offer?

Feeling blindsided and just plain blind, with no clear vision of tomorrow, I have to stay hyper-focused on today. I have to change my whole latitude.

I pray for God to give us this day our daily bread and/or toilet paper. But I actually mean it this time.

And I’ve noticed a few things that I didn’t notice before.

People are suddenly crazy-kind to each other. When my husband and I walk around our neighborhood, we’re not in such a rush. We stay six feet away, but we’re abnormally friendly! Like the kind of friendly that might have been creepy B.C. (Before Corona). We see people running errands, buying groceries, and devoting precious time to friends, neighbors, and complete strangers. Just like Jesus did. It’s inspiring.

All this social distance is drawing families closer together. Our family just finished 19 dinners together in a row. Wooooo! Can I get an “Amen?” It’s not always perfect, or even edible, but we’re choking it down together. And then binge-watching Marvel movies, in chronological order, not release order, obviously. There have been a few nights that we’ve laughed so hard we forgot all about this pandemic, for a minute.

Necessity births creativity. We’re learning how to teach, tweet, Zoom, meditate, meditate, cooperate, and compromise. One of my sons is out riding his bike for the first time in years. Yep. It’s a sneaky way to safely hang out six feet away from friends. I get it. But still! My other son had to leave his college campus in Austin, so now he’s creating a business instead of just studying it.

So, is the coronavirus a catastrophe or a catalyst?

Clearly, it’s already an unthinkable catastrophe. Our hearts ache for those who are sick and suffering. We pray every day for relief, recovery, strength, peace, comfort, and wisdom.

But what if it can be a catalyst, too?

What if we can learn, grow, adapt, and emerge stronger, kinder, closer, more capable, responsible, and much more grateful for everything we used to take for granted? For the first time in a long time, we are all powerfully bound together in unity.

Let’s pray it will be both.

Lauren Bohner is the Communications Specialist for Uptown Church at House of Blues, our newest campus launching this fall 2020.