For the first time in my lifetime, humanity – with all of our differences and cultural realities – feels united. Albeit, by a terrible virus, yet united nonetheless. The world has changed and, regardless of how we feel about the quarantine, or our current fears or our uncertainties, we are all in this strange season together. Our quarantine routines and daily lives may look different than one another – some of us are strictly homebound, some are working as essential employees – yet, the thing that unites us is the fact that our cities and towns and “normal” daily lives have all drastically changed.
For Dave and I, this is a season of working (construction is an essential business) and planning and designing new projects while juggling homeschooling four elementary-aged kiddos and a baby. Needless to say, our closets remain unorganized, the “honey-do” list remains unchecked and the laundry piles are the only constant. For our family, the quarantine hasn’t been the total halt that is has for others. Yet, so much has changed.
Our jam-packed calendar has mostly cleared. So many good things – like field trips and sports games and art camps – have been cancelled. The normal busy spring schedule we maintain as a family of seven has slowed dramatically.
While we mourn the loss of so many good things, we are embracing and appreciating the slower pace at the end of each day. Not rushing into bedtime routines in anticipation of early mornings allows us to take long walks and play games and watch movies together.
Yet, we are desperately missing our people. By nature, our family is all about hospitality and opening our doors to friends. During a typical spring season, our home is a revolving shuffle of friends and family coming by for dinner or stopping over for coffee on the front porch. We love our people and we adore sitting around the table for hours of laughter and conversations and good food.
While I’m ready for life to return to “normal” in so many ways, I want to tuck away lessons from this season. I want to hold the words that have risen to the surface close. Words like simplicity, slow, and intentional. I want to hug my people and open my doors and fill my table once again. I want to linger over a delicious meal with good friends while the candles burn low. I want to continue to take long, unhurried walks while the sun slowly sinks behind the horizon. I want to continue to embrace gratitude for the mundane and the momentous.
I want to breathe deeply from the well of grace. I want to pray and live out this Sabbath prayer a dear friend read this morning on our church’s zoom call (from The Common Book of Prayer):
Lord of Creation,
create in us a new rhythm of life
composed of hours that sustain rather than stress,
of days that deliver rather than destroy,
of time that tickles rather than tackles.
Lord of Liberation,
by the rhythm of your truth, set us free
from the bondage and baggage that break us,
from the Pharaohs and fellows who fail us,
from the plans and pursuits that prey upon us.
Lord of Resurrection,
may we be raised into the rhythm of your new life,
dead to deceitful calendars,
dead to fleeting friend requests,
dead to the empty peace of our accomplishments.
To our packed-full planners, we bid, “Peace!”
To our over-caffeinated consciences, we say, “Cease!”
To our suffocating selves, Lord, grant release.
Drowning in a sea of deadlines and death chimes,
we rest in you, our lifeline.
By your ever-restful grace,
allow us to enter your Sabbath rest
as your Sabbath rest enters into us.
In the name of our Creator,
our Liberator,
our Resurrection and Life,
we pray.
Amen.
Take a deep breath today, friends. Pray this prayer aloud and soak in the beauty of God’s grace and rest. Lay down your troubles and worries and fears for tomorrow. Trust in the firm foundation of a good God who is still on the throne and will never turn away or forsake His kids. He is only good.
In the words of Peter, “May you have more and more of God’s special favor and wonderful peace.” {1 Peter 1:2b}
