I feel drained. Like I am just simply out of words, nothing to write, nothing to say. My questions have no answers. My thoughts have no end. It feels like a black hole of endless what ifs. Spiraling out of control. Afraid of the unknown surrounds me but I refuse to give in to the fear or to give up hope. That is not me. I do not back down. I will not despair.
I will continue to believe we will have normal again.
I keep thinking it might be a bit premature to share these thoughts now. But we are on day 36 and the filter is thin.
I will continue to believe that we will have normal again. A new normal, I pray for a better normal. Perhaps a normal where we respect each other more as people. we give space as needed and lean in at just the right times. A normal where we no longer take for granted the time we have to sit across the table and chat with friends, old and new. Where someday is turned into today and we let the house be a little undone so that we go on that adventure with our kids, play in the yard or visit our grandparents and parents at the most inconvenient times. Maybe the new normal will include a bit more sacrifice and a lot more love.
At the very least, maybe we can appreciate the gatherings, even if we don’t always love them (hello fellow introverts).
And then my mind shifts and the pendulum swings and here I am. I am lamenting over all the missed opportunities. All the times I’ve said no when maybe I should have said yes. The families I should have hosted, the mediocre dinners I should have made for the long list of “we need to have them over for dinner sometime” people that only grows by the day.
I still never want to go to touristy towns or crowded venues or super popular places or suffocating amusement parks. Some things never change.
But the freedom to hike with friends, eat with family, fly across the country to see the Joshua Trees and the giant Redwoods. To host backyard movies with lots of friends and birthday parties overflowing with sugared up kids. Give it to me.
Here’s to normal again, only better. Skipping the fancy meals in return for pizza in the backyard. Letting the house be a home, the chaotic life ensue, the craziness of a big family be the best part of my day. Putting people before projects and loving God and other humans the best we can.
Maybe quarantine is just a pause, a season. Maybe things will be the same soon. Maybe they won’t. Maybe we feel like we are wandering in the desert. We are lost and thirsty and beginning to go a little crazy. Maybe God is just whispering our names. Gently calling us like a cool breeze on a summer day. Maybe he is calling us home, to himself. To wake up. To live with eyes wide open. To refocus, reorder, reset. Maybe this is just a time to let God have a way with our hearts again.
Maybe God wants us whole. He wants every single part of us, our hearts and minds and souls and bodies, to be more like him. Holy. Sacred. Beloved. We are his. Now we have the time to relearn what that means. Maybe he doesn’t want us to go back to being the same. Maybe he is calling us deeper. Into more of him.
