We are on day 14 of no outside contact for the boys. I am on day 8 for myself, and B has made a few trips to grocery pickup or to get gas. We are doing the thing. More life has been lived in this house in the last 14 days than in the last 14 months. And I'm learning a lot.
Right after the flood of 2016, I titled a blog entry "Down to the Studs." I talked about our own personal flood story and how the event stripped the homes (and our hearts) down to the studs of what mattered. I'm reminded now of some of these key points surrounding yet another epic event. It's funny, because for weeks I'd been filling my prayer with the chance to slow down time. A weekend with no activities. An evening with no work or sports. I was making sure those volunteer hours were checked off, the wal-mart orders were on schedule, the dance studio tasks were above and beyond, and the summer camp registrations were soon to be on the done-list. I was in fast forward mode and begging for a stop light. And here it is.
We have rearranged everything - the dining room is now home for "distance learning," my bathroom is home for my virtual REV classes, we built a tap floor underneath the house, and the animals are wondering WHY IN THE HELL we are all home so much. Our lives mimic most right now, but all we are doing is staying put. No flooded homes to clean out, no floors and walls to strip, no water-logged photo books to salvage. Just stay put while our friends and relatives in healthcare fight this enemy, head on, elbow deep, hearts hurting, and nerves racing - we pray for their strength and immunity. I used to pray on the ride home from carpool every morning. I realized about 4 days into this that I hadn't prayed. We are creatures of habit. My new prayer takes place constantly. All day long - at the counter, at the sink, walking to the mailbox, sipping my coffee, while cooking or while coaching through a math lesson, while drying somebody's tears, while drying my own tears. This new habit is what I needed.
We are consumed with the news, social media, anything digital right now. It is the method that keeps our businesses afloat. And thank God we have it. We worry about finances, small business, our jobs, and what the reports will say the next day. We worry that our distance learning "teacher mode that was never meant to teach" isn't good enough. We worry that we are yelling too much (we KNOW we are yelling too much). We worry that the clorox wipe didn't cover it all or that we didn't wash our hands enough today. I notice a tightening in my chest, and it takes a few minutes before I understand that I'm just a victim of my own worry. We are trying to control, when we are being taught to surrender.
God has slashed away at the intense distractions and buckled my seat belt to keep me surrounded by the very needs He sees fit. I am watching my boys become best friends. I am discovering how each of them learn differently - what activities each one likes most and what lunch food each one prefers. I am seeing my husband for the man I married, as the endless jobs / roles / duties that got in our way now disappear. I notice how much I LOVE to teach dance and how much I miss hugging my dancers at the end of each class. I have been given a reset button that didn't require a trip to some exotic island. Each day of this new normal gives me a chance to push that button - and boy do I need to push it. This past week of "distance learning" with school and virtual classes with my dance studio was full of low moments. But like a child in time out, this adult self is learning. The day we get to return to the normal, we will all be reassessing what should be allowed to stay and what shouldn't. Hopefully we will appreciate that normal more. Step outside more. Breathe it all in more. And allow ourselves to BE MORE present in the moments that make this life just that - MORE of what we need.
