Dispatch from the Quarantine

Quarantine, Day Fifteen. I know because I checked the calendar. It's not always apparent anymore what day it is and this is starting to feel a bit like childhood summers did, one day melting into the next. Now that April 30th is being thrown around as a date when all of this will perhaps-maybe-possibly end, I imagine there will be a lot of melting. But I did know that yesterday was Sunday and when evening came, I still had a notion knocking around that we would have to be ready in the morning to head out the door; that I'd have to make sure there were clean work trousers for my husband, clean school uniforms, a snack, and a washed and filled water bottle for our little guy. But I didn't need to do those things, and the realization of this came not with a jolt, but with a wash of relief.

Relief!

Relief seems almost wrong to feel, given what's happening. It's the same relief of realizing that I don't have to face meeting up with someone I have difficulty with, that I don't have to steel myself to face and respond to pointed criticisms respectfully - not at all, and possibly not for a long time.

Maybe isolation isn't all bad.

And yet I feel like I should cringe at that thought, because there's something tone-deaf about it, when health care workers who are friends of mine don't get to choose isolation, when single people, hospital patients, prisoners, and the elderly are forced into isolation and into its subsequent loneliness. Lucky me, that mine can contain a certain amount of relief. Perhaps being sheltered from this disease, and from the world, is something that my spirit has needed. After all, here I am, writing a blog post after nearly eighteen months without having even peeked at this particular corner of the internet.

There's some comfort in this isolation, too. I feel safe at home. I feel confident that my parents are safe from the virus, tucked up in their own cozy place a mile away. And our home is a blessing that we didn't realize the expanse of until we had to be here indefinitely. On the first day of school closures in our district, my husband and I stood looking out our back door and counted the ways we were grateful to be here. At our house, we have a spacious back yard with interesting nooks and crannies for the children to explore, ample sunlit space for our vegetable garden, low-sweeping tree canopies that can serve as a hiding spot or a fort, rock walls to scale, and three friendly families on each side of the fence. We have a pretty reliable income, and my husband can work from home - again, safely. We even have a secluded room (with a child-proof lock!) where he can go to work in peace, complete with a lovely view of spring creeping across the yard. We are so blessed in all of this. We are blessed that this virus arrived not in the deep freeze of January, but in the surprising warmth of an early prairie spring. We are blessed to live in a place that doesn't have a huge population, where we won't encounter quite as many people when we do have to venture out for food or exercise.

Blessing may be an odd word to use here in light of the big picture of this new virus and the havoc that it is wreaking on economies, cities, and lives, but not if you are a Christian. We are taught from the very start to look for God in all things, to lean on him in times of adversity, to literally put our trust in the Lord. I am trying to remember that this is it, the moment to trust.  I'm not saying that I have been doing it consistently. Day Three of the quarantine is when reality set in and I began to gain a picture of what we are facing and what might come of it. Reader, I had to sit on our staircase while the children watched a movie and take deep, slow breaths in order to stop the tears, to calm my beating heart and my shallow, panicked breathing that had come about from all of the 'what ifs' and 'how wills' that had been assaulting me all morning. This is a scary time, and in many moments over the past two weeks, I have not been trusting in Christ. The days that I have placed in His hands have, conversely, been wonderfully calm, ordered days. He will carry me through this if I let Him.  If I let Him. I mean, God is good all the time, right? Even now, even in this, He is good.

Last thought, I promise. Does anyone else feel like we are living the answer to the Litany of Humility? This prayer kept popping up in my facebook groups over the past few months and into my music streaming and oh look, this is life today.

Take care, trust in God, and wash your hands.