Quarantine Thoughts
For those of us who actually washed our hands before it was trending...we’re the real hipsters of 2020.
& all I can say is I finally understand why my dog is so ecstatic to go outside, go for walks, and chase everything down the street (that last one makes me sound mental but for reals, I’ve done more running this last week then I’ve done in ages. Woohoo.)
But in all seriousness, who woulda thought we’d be living through such an event? Going into COVID-19 there were so many uncertainties; and given the admitted intensity of the situation, I think there were too many things that put my mind into overdrive and drove my heart into searching for more wonder (& hugs) - amidst a ton of tears, aching, and emotions.
I was on a walk last week thinking about it - feeling incredibly blessed to be outside, observing the waves. So naturally, being the organized (ha), list-taking (another ha) person that I am (read: grasping for something to hold on to), I compiled a list of things I know now - maybe more so than before.
This is what I know now:
God is good.
Not that I didn’t know this before, but if possible, His goodness has become more magnified than ever. I stared at the ocean from a cliff today, water rushing below, and couldn’t help but speak out, “Your love is wild. Your love is wild.” Over & over again until any last glimmering shred in me that didn’t fully understand it was set free. I cried.
We are the head and not the tail.
All I can say is that my now-closed job surprised me with finances that I did not expect. All I can say is God brought people to buy off what I did not need to pay my rent. All I can say is that I walk to the ocean; that staying in Australia for at least a second year is fully within my grasp; my day is full of baby giggles and a wealth of cuddles; that I can hear the crickets at night; that inspiration is alive and well and healthy and flourishing; and maybe that would’ve happened with COVID, but I’m relatively sure that at least the first three wouldn’t have been said with certainty. There is always something to be so grateful for.
People are friendlier - more so now than ever before.
We crave community; we crave trust; and people smiling (as they walk a full distance away) at you makes a huge difference in life.
Every extra moment under the sun rays or under stars or in the waves is an extra gift.
I breathe it in deeply, hold it somewhere close - maybe my soul? - for two or three seconds, and let it go.
This is an open-handed season.
And yet, dreams are bigger, I can say that my heart is way more open, and I realize that no matter where I think my life is going, God has a gentle way of shifting. He’s not in the earthquake, He’s in the whisper.
Hugs are underestimated by way too many people.
(My physical touch persona was dying). ‘Nuff said. If you live with people, hold them close.
You can do more than you realize.
Endurance and investment in your freedom and future now is such a key. I spent the first week of quiet in silence, emotionally dealing with friends leaving, questioning over and over what my motives were for leaving, weighing out what would happen if I stayed. The second week, I walked up a flight of stairs, and ended up winded. It had taken me SO long to build up to being able to run for thirty minutes without stopping (#asthma), I was immediately sparked. I can’t run for thirty minutes anymore; but ya better believe I’ve worked my way back to fifteen in the last week and a half. Investment in your freedom and future is not going to happen when we sit down and act as if we have none.
Worship needs to be purified again.
If I’m honest, it’s been a long time since I DIDNT hit the record button on my phone before I sat down and just played. Searching for song ideas, melodies. The fact is, we NEED more communion now. I urge you, sit down with your instrument, and let praise infiltrate. If you’re broken from this season and don’t know what to sing, sing healing. If you’re tired, sing for rest. Play for restoration. Play for what is lost, but also what is being found across the earth.
“It’s all an adventure that comes with a breathtaking view: walking a tightrope with You.”
Psalm 23 is still a Psalm for this season.
It’s O.K. to admit you’re not okay.
There’s such a stigma with being busy, filling your time, doing all the things you never had time to do before. The truth is, there was so much space I needed suddenly. Your world has quite possibly literally been turned on its head, and taking time to cope with that is necessary. I was blessed enough to have a friend or two who were consistently checking in and asking if I was doing okay. I had to be vulnerable, and say no; I was an emotional wreck. However… it takes more than one person. You don’t need to do life alone. It takes time to adjust to “normal.” In fact, I feel like “normalcy” doesn’t necessarily exist anymore. But there’s grace for you. There’s grace for us.
This is the most time we’ll have. Until we’re dead, probably.
Okay sure; it sounds a little drastic. Ultimately, we must realize that there are no coincidences; that all things happen for a reason, and that in the silence, there is also peace to be found.
I hope you are well. I pray you are receiving with open hands. I believe you are steadfast. Above all else - please reach out to me if you need anything, or want to chat. We’re in this together (cliché, but true).
MUCH LOVE,