It's quite strange to think about everything that has happened in the last week - so fast. A week ago R told me she might need to cancel our trip because of the coronavirus, and it felt a bit extreme to me. Little did I know that 1 week later, the president would discourage gatherings of more than 10 people, and all nonessential travel. Reality has struck fast. Even last Wednesday, my birthday, it felt like the changes would be gradual and somewhat ignorable - not much had changed for anyone in my circles, except virtual classes, a couple of cancelled events. Now it seems like we're perilously close to sheltering in place.
I used to imagine what it would have been like to live during WWII, to plant a victory garden, to rely on neighbors, to scrimp and save, to practice blackouts, to volunteer. For everyone to be united against a common threat and need to be sacrificial and courageous. It feels like this is the event, the moment. More than 9/11, in some ways, although that certainly brought a surge of solidarity and sobriety. Patriotism, and return to good essentials. It feels like this is the event of my lifetime, but it's not one I ever expected to encounter. I can't see COVID-19. I can't reform it or forgive it or conscientiously object. I can't gather friends around, or give lots of hugs - and that's very strange. It's difficult, even, to "help" others tangibly - you might unintentionally spread the disease. I'm self quarantined right now, which I didn't realize until Dad made it clear yesterday. I feel a bit useless, but not completely. Mostly I feel upbeat; I've been answering messages and texts, exchanging videos and pictures. I've mostly been enjoying the time with Mom and Dad. But nearly everything planned into the next two months feels jeopardized, and probably EVERYTHING in the next two weeks is out of the question. I find myself thinking ridiculous things: "How would I date someone?" "This is my golden opportunity to try homemade shampoo and eat lots of garlic!" "Will I be able to finish my taxes?" "What if my computer dies in the next two weeks?" "Finally, I can READ and PAINT!" "Are we going to run out of toilet paper?"
We're currently not about to run out of food. Mom and Dad bought so much on Saturday, and I think we both had more tucked away than we realized. To fit things in the fridge, we took out mason jars clogging the back, 8-10 jars of old frosting, chicken stock, and bacon grease. Terrible! And rewarding. Mom is cooking for all of us, since I chipped in with cash.
We watched Episode 1 of "Babies" on Netflix. So good to see babies at a time like this, a time that feels dystopic. Yet so ripe for goodness. Save us. Make Yourself known. Bring us to You, no shortcuts, no diversions. Straight to You. Prove who is in control.
Give Your people wisdom, courage, love. Faith and hope. Great peace. Staggering generosity. Gentleness. Keep justice. Do not let evil take advantage of vulnerability, panic, fear. Fight for us. For what is eternal in us, especially. And don't let me give way to worry, or self-absorption, or frittered distraction. This should be a time of great focus and intimacy with You. A time when I can see You and hear You and feel You. Please deliver babies safely into this world. Please protect people from fear when they need medical attention. Please fortify medical personnel, protect them. Succour them. Please save people from addictions and escapism right now. Help us cope. Give our hands good work to do. Give us great love. Keep us singing, and even when we must grieve, let us grieve what is real and matters, not the loss of our illusions and pride. Humble us, make us grateful. Let no one be forgotten, alone.
