Quarantine
The world got sick.
It seems a whirlwind of change put us where we are today, and at the same time the month of March felt more like three years.
There were rumblings in what little news we keep up with, maybe starting back in February. We discussed it a little at work, the thought of maybe having to offer only online courses. Life in a bubble or whatever it was, I took none of it seriously.
The week of March 8th was scaring us all a little, as the time change, a full moon, and Friday the 13th all fell on the same week. We laughed over that.
On Friday the 13th, they closed schools for two weeks. And over the next two weeks, and all the weeks that followed, we watched wide-eyed and slack-jawed as the virus tore through an America that had been ordered to drop everything.
Education was indeed taken online for the remainder of the year. No sports. At all. Retail stores and restaurants closed, except for those who offered curbside pickup or delivery. Churches empty. Every entertainment venue shut down. The social gathering limit was set to ten people, and even those needed to stay six feet apart. Our marching orders were to just stay home.
Social media would joke, "For the first time in history, the human race can ensure its own survival by laying on the couch and watching TV. Don't screw it up."
Indeed the jokes have been aplenty, and these lighthearted views of our surreal and, at times, scary circumstance have helped calm anxiety.
Heroes always rise up in the midst of devastation. America's new heroes are our doctors and nurses. They are working tirelessly, putting themselves in danger every moment. Pushing through shortages of beds and safety equipment, isolating themselves from their homes and families so their loved ones might stay safe, offering love and encouragement at patient bedsides since visitors to hospitals have long since been banned.
While many jobs have fallen victim to America's screeching halt, there are still many who are going to work every day, facing the risk of exposure, to help where it is most needed. Grocers, scrambling to stock their ravaged shelves. First responders, with the added uncertainty of contagion on top of their already unpredictable work. Custodians sanitizing around the clock.
And the stories of people helping one another. Heavens, it hits me like the national anthem does, tears trickling down and a heart so swollen with patriotism that my lungs don't have room to work.
This also from social media:
Around here, obviously things are different. We have gone nowhere in the last almost four weeks except to grab food or supplies for ourselves or Nana and Granddad. Our typically cluttered calendar has been wiped clean, both for now and the foreseeable future.
Church is done in the basement - Sunday school through Google Meet and worship service over Youtube. No Easter drama this year, a very difficult but necessary decision.
School is happening at home, with assignments put together by teachers and mapped over the days by me. It has been almost the polar opposite of what I expected, at least based on how homework went in the past. The boys have been very cooperative, and the reduced time brought about by individual attention almost makes them seem eager to tackle the work. Most days, anyway.
I'm working entirely from home now. It's a bit more challenging surrounded constantly by people who apparently need me for their next breath. Truly, I do enjoy having their company. It is going well, and how thankful I am to still be able to work.
We are filling our lunch breaks and evenings outside. The boys have spent hours jumping and bouncing on the trampoline, while Brandon and I walk wide circles around them, getting in as many steps as we can. In the driveway, Brandon holds PE class, which consists of basketball drills that the boys are pretty good at and that I attempt to do.
Wandering the yard, we have watched the land awaken from winter. Mountains glowing blue across the horizon. Thick neon Kentucky bluegrass like a carpet beneath our feet. Bare tree branches to tiny leaves to glorious shade in the gradually developing heat. Blooms of every color. Birds singing themselves through the day, giving way to my beloved pond frogs as the sun goes down.
How thankful I am for our acreage and the fact that this quarantine is occurring at such a beautiful time of year. Can't imagine not being able to spend time outside to break the monotony that shows no sign of ending anytime soon.
I'm cooking y'all. Between basketball and everything else, I hardly made any meals the first part of the year. Looking down the barrel of months upon months at home, I inventoried the pantry, canning cabinet, and freezers to come up with a meal plan. It has been great to be back in the kitchen.
We're missing time spent with the grandparents so very, very much. We're exercising, playing games, watching movies, dreaming and planning, hugging and loving on each other, talking about how we will remember this forever and the boys will tell their grandkids that they lived through the pandemic. We're thanking the Lord that no one we know has become infected with the virus, and praying so hard for our friends and loved ones who are on the front lines as medics or first responders.
It's so strange. If you had told me months ago that all of life's extras would be stripped away, that all of our plans would vanish and we would just be home together, it would have made me sad and anxious. It sounds bad, but as busy and frantic as we were, I loved all those things and, though I do get overwhelmed sometimes, I thrive in schedule and routine. Indeed, the loss of basketball and the Easter drama and church have been pretty disappointing.
But the more I am here at home, surrounded constantly by these people who really apparently need me for their next breath, the more I am loving this simplicity. A simplicity that only God knew we needed at this time. And what a gift, what a gift to have each other all to ourselves at this point in the boys' lives. Trey on the cusp of teendom, Aden on the cusp of tweendom. With everything else out of the way, they are our focus. We can build up identities in Christ and fill their hearts with love. Oh the blessing.
We talk sometimes about things getting back to normal someday, and I'm sure they will, but maybe they shouldn't. Maybe this experience will change our perspective about what is truly important. Teach us not to take anything for granted. Reveal to us how well provided for we are, that slowing down only highlights the goodness of the Lord.
You can have all this world. Give me Jesus.
I've been thinking 'bout time
And where does it go
How can I stop my life
from passing me by, I don't know
I've been thinking 'bout family
and how it's going so fast
Will I wake up one morning
just wishing that I could go back
I've been thinking 'bout lately, maybe
I can make a change and let you change me
So, with all of my heart this is my prayer
Singing oh Lord
Keep me in the moment
Help me live with my eyes wide open
'Cause I don't wanna miss what you have for me
Singing oh Lord
Show me what matters
Throw away what I'm chasing after
'Cause I don't wanna miss what you have for me
Keep me in the moment
It seems a whirlwind of change put us where we are today, and at the same time the month of March felt more like three years.
There were rumblings in what little news we keep up with, maybe starting back in February. We discussed it a little at work, the thought of maybe having to offer only online courses. Life in a bubble or whatever it was, I took none of it seriously.
The week of March 8th was scaring us all a little, as the time change, a full moon, and Friday the 13th all fell on the same week. We laughed over that.
On Friday the 13th, they closed schools for two weeks. And over the next two weeks, and all the weeks that followed, we watched wide-eyed and slack-jawed as the virus tore through an America that had been ordered to drop everything.
Education was indeed taken online for the remainder of the year. No sports. At all. Retail stores and restaurants closed, except for those who offered curbside pickup or delivery. Churches empty. Every entertainment venue shut down. The social gathering limit was set to ten people, and even those needed to stay six feet apart. Our marching orders were to just stay home.
Social media would joke, "For the first time in history, the human race can ensure its own survival by laying on the couch and watching TV. Don't screw it up."
Indeed the jokes have been aplenty, and these lighthearted views of our surreal and, at times, scary circumstance have helped calm anxiety.
Heroes always rise up in the midst of devastation. America's new heroes are our doctors and nurses. They are working tirelessly, putting themselves in danger every moment. Pushing through shortages of beds and safety equipment, isolating themselves from their homes and families so their loved ones might stay safe, offering love and encouragement at patient bedsides since visitors to hospitals have long since been banned.
While many jobs have fallen victim to America's screeching halt, there are still many who are going to work every day, facing the risk of exposure, to help where it is most needed. Grocers, scrambling to stock their ravaged shelves. First responders, with the added uncertainty of contagion on top of their already unpredictable work. Custodians sanitizing around the clock.
And the stories of people helping one another. Heavens, it hits me like the national anthem does, tears trickling down and a heart so swollen with patriotism that my lungs don't have room to work.
This also from social media:
Truckers said, we will drive days on end getting supplies to the stores.This is my America, y'all. Light shines brigtest in the darkness.
Store workers said, we will stock the shelves all night and store managers said, we will let elderly people shop first thing in the mornings.
Carnival cruise line said, we can match those big Navy Hospital ships Comfort and Mercy with some fully staffed cruise ships.
GM said, we can make ventilators where we were making cars.
Breweries said, we will make hand sanitizer instead of beer.
NBA basketball players said, hold our basketballs while we write checks to pay the arena staff.
The wealthy said, here we will donate funds for the research and support of beating this virus.
Teachers said, here are some fun lessons and activities that will help your kids learn and give you some fun family time together.
Schools said, we will use our buses to bring meals every day to any child who needs them.
Celebrities said , let us read books to your children and sing songs on live feeds for those of you stuck inside.
Crafters said, we will sit at our sewing machines for hours a day, sewing masks and caps for the nurses and home health care workers.
Moms said, here are my blogs and activity ideas for your children. Let's stand together in staying home with our kids.
Young Americans said, let us volunteer to run errands, and get food for the vulnerable.
Churches said, we will broadcast our message of hope over the internet or from the back of a flatbed in the parking lot.
Families, friends, and neighbors said, we will take more time to check on each other, wave and talk through windows or across yards, flood each other's phones with text messages, and pray for each other more than ever.
We look like a nation divided sometimes. But we are a nation that will stand and will fight together.
Around here, obviously things are different. We have gone nowhere in the last almost four weeks except to grab food or supplies for ourselves or Nana and Granddad. Our typically cluttered calendar has been wiped clean, both for now and the foreseeable future.
Church is done in the basement - Sunday school through Google Meet and worship service over Youtube. No Easter drama this year, a very difficult but necessary decision.
School is happening at home, with assignments put together by teachers and mapped over the days by me. It has been almost the polar opposite of what I expected, at least based on how homework went in the past. The boys have been very cooperative, and the reduced time brought about by individual attention almost makes them seem eager to tackle the work. Most days, anyway.
I'm working entirely from home now. It's a bit more challenging surrounded constantly by people who apparently need me for their next breath. Truly, I do enjoy having their company. It is going well, and how thankful I am to still be able to work.
We are filling our lunch breaks and evenings outside. The boys have spent hours jumping and bouncing on the trampoline, while Brandon and I walk wide circles around them, getting in as many steps as we can. In the driveway, Brandon holds PE class, which consists of basketball drills that the boys are pretty good at and that I attempt to do.
Wandering the yard, we have watched the land awaken from winter. Mountains glowing blue across the horizon. Thick neon Kentucky bluegrass like a carpet beneath our feet. Bare tree branches to tiny leaves to glorious shade in the gradually developing heat. Blooms of every color. Birds singing themselves through the day, giving way to my beloved pond frogs as the sun goes down.
How thankful I am for our acreage and the fact that this quarantine is occurring at such a beautiful time of year. Can't imagine not being able to spend time outside to break the monotony that shows no sign of ending anytime soon.
I'm cooking y'all. Between basketball and everything else, I hardly made any meals the first part of the year. Looking down the barrel of months upon months at home, I inventoried the pantry, canning cabinet, and freezers to come up with a meal plan. It has been great to be back in the kitchen.
We're missing time spent with the grandparents so very, very much. We're exercising, playing games, watching movies, dreaming and planning, hugging and loving on each other, talking about how we will remember this forever and the boys will tell their grandkids that they lived through the pandemic. We're thanking the Lord that no one we know has become infected with the virus, and praying so hard for our friends and loved ones who are on the front lines as medics or first responders.
It's so strange. If you had told me months ago that all of life's extras would be stripped away, that all of our plans would vanish and we would just be home together, it would have made me sad and anxious. It sounds bad, but as busy and frantic as we were, I loved all those things and, though I do get overwhelmed sometimes, I thrive in schedule and routine. Indeed, the loss of basketball and the Easter drama and church have been pretty disappointing.
But the more I am here at home, surrounded constantly by these people who really apparently need me for their next breath, the more I am loving this simplicity. A simplicity that only God knew we needed at this time. And what a gift, what a gift to have each other all to ourselves at this point in the boys' lives. Trey on the cusp of teendom, Aden on the cusp of tweendom. With everything else out of the way, they are our focus. We can build up identities in Christ and fill their hearts with love. Oh the blessing.
We talk sometimes about things getting back to normal someday, and I'm sure they will, but maybe they shouldn't. Maybe this experience will change our perspective about what is truly important. Teach us not to take anything for granted. Reveal to us how well provided for we are, that slowing down only highlights the goodness of the Lord.
You can have all this world. Give me Jesus.
And where does it go
How can I stop my life
from passing me by, I don't know
I've been thinking 'bout family
and how it's going so fast
Will I wake up one morning
just wishing that I could go back
I've been thinking 'bout lately, maybe
I can make a change and let you change me
So, with all of my heart this is my prayer
Singing oh Lord
Keep me in the moment
Help me live with my eyes wide open
'Cause I don't wanna miss what you have for me
Singing oh Lord
Show me what matters
Throw away what I'm chasing after
'Cause I don't wanna miss what you have for me
Keep me in the moment
Comments