I'm Told that Grief is Love with its Recipient Missing

What does visiting the sick look like when the sick are immunocompromised and you're at regular risk of Covid or other illnesses? Does it mean more videochat? Does it mean email and letters? Does it mean something else? What does feeding the hungry or visiting a prison look like when you work full-time in another industry, then have children to take care of until nightfall; when your house is a mildew-speckled, filthy mess and the dishes are dirty and all your family is miles away; when you're nearing forty and neither have energy past nightfall nor can fall asleep? Does it mean throwing money at things? Is that of equal value to doing things directly, yourself? Should I feel grateful to have a job, even if it's a tiring one that I suspect is a lot less important than everyone likes to believe? Would I be a better person if I left my job to maintain my household and care for my children? But aren't my children better off being cared for outside the house, given what I'm like inside it, and what I think the dynamic would be (or already know it is) when my children's constant stubborn defiance and constant thankless demands me(e)t with my inner and outer exhaustion? What do I make of the endless conflicting claims about the correct way to interact with, and the correct attitude to take towards, the non-Christian world - especially as a person who works in the non-Christian world? Is there any proof of God's existence or claims that my heart would consistently accept without doubt? Is there any way he could speak to me that I would not distrust? If not, where does that leave me? How do I build a life, and what kind of life would it be? It may be true, as Brad East says, that people don't die for a question; but what if that's the only choice I have?