For the first time in three years, my family is living under the same roof. My older son came home for spring break, never imagining that he wouldn’t be returning to campus for the remainder of his semester. My younger son’s high school senior year has been greatly altered, as he and his classmates now engage in distance learning. With a shelter-at-home mandate because of COVID-19, we are here for the foreseeable future.
It’s a good place to be. We have the comforts of home; a well-stocked refrigerator and pantry; and technology that keeps us connected with the outside world. We live within walking distance of my elderly parents, so we can easily check on them, we have each other, and we are well. We’ve continued to work from home and complete our school assignments. We’ve had time to clean closets, cook meals, play games, and tend to the yard. And yet…
I wake in the middle of the night, heart clenched in fear. I watch the news and feel anger and anxiety burning within me. I think of my parents, or my sons, or others that I love and this virus infecting humanity like a venom, and I panic. As I adapt to the disruption of the school year, I feel overwhelmed. When I imagine potential losses to come, like Reed’s graduation, I feel despair. I feel…a lot.
How are you experiencing these days of pandemic? Of distancing? Of quarantine? Wherever today finds you, how are you?
Last week the clouds over our city cleared and the rain finally ended. It was a welcome respite after isolating inside for several days. In the warm spring afternoon, I gathered the final bouquet of daffodils from my yard and took a walk to my parents’ home, just a few blocks away. The blue sky and bright sun were welcome companions, and as I walked, I noticed the bird song that filled the air like a symphony of praise. I could feel my heart lift.
As I walked, I observed my neighbors outside—some were mowing, some were porch sitting, a child was riding his bicycle, and a couple of teenagers were drawing on a driveway with sidewalk chalk. I spotted spring trees blooming—saucer magnolias, flowering crabapples, redbuds, dogwoods, and flowering cherry—and sensed hope stirring. I breathed in deeply and felt the scented air of spring minister to me.
What is ministering to you in these days of pandemic? Of distancing? Of quarantine? Wherever today finds you, how are you being cared for?
Each night my family gathers in our den and listens as a favorite author reads from one of his books on Facebook Live. As I turn the pages, following along, I’m taken back to a time when I read books aloud to the boys. Now, their long, lanky forms stretch across the couch or curl up on the floor with our dog. For half an hour, we are captivated by this storyteller, and we forget what’s happening in our world as we are transported to another.
On Sunday afternoons I join a group of women in a Zoom gathering hosted by my friend and Red Tent Living founder Tracy Johnson. We connect in this online community to offer and to honor stories—our stories of this uncertain, disruptive, and alarming time. It is a sacred time as we see each other’s faces and share our experiences.
We realize that we are not alone, which provides great comfort.
I see others offering engagement and care in a myriad of creative ways. Danielle invited people to write and share haikus about their pandemic experiences. Jill put crossword puzzle books and handwritten notes in the mailboxes of her neighbors. Donna and Michelle organized a food drive for a struggling community. Kaye and Jamie made masks, which they donated to healthcare workers at a local hospital. As I witness these women rising up and reaching out, I am encouraged and inspired.
Who is inspiring you in these days of pandemic? Of distancing? Of quarantine? Wherever today finds you, who is offering you hope?
Recently John Eldredge posted a short video reframing this time from a period of waiting to a time to consecrate as holy. He said, “I want to consecrate my quarantine period to Jesus. I don’t want to let the world rule it or the news rule it. Let’s make this time holy to God, make it sacred to Jesus…Each morning ask, “Jesus, what do you have for me today?” These words are altering how I’m viewing this time; they are shifting me from anxiety to anticipation, from fear to hope, from futility to purposeful engagement.
This morning I uploaded lesson plans for my students, along with a note of encouragement. I set up a Zoom call with friends for Wednesday morning. Each week six of us are connecting in this virtual space for our morning coffee and conversation. I pulled a couple of greeting cards out of my Trader Joe’s stash, and I’ll write a note of encouragement to friends who are living alone during this time of distancing. I emailed a poem to my pastor. Soon I’ll make breakfast for my boys, and later I’ll check on my parents.
These are the things I can do today, and they matter.
How are you inspiring others in these days of pandemic? Of distancing? Of quarantine? Wherever today finds you, how are you offering hope?
How are you in these days of pandemic? Of distancing? Of quarantine? I really want to know.
Weekly Editor
A lover of story, Susan Tucker has always been captivated by beautiful writing. She is drawn to themes of tension, joy/grief, hope/loss, freedom/shame, which she explores in her own writing. Susan spends her days teaching middle school English, mothering her two teenage sons, and loving her husband of 25 years. She cherishes her first cup of coffee each morning, moments of quiet and solitude, restorative yoga, worship music, and faithful friends.nbsp
Hello, my name is Stephanie Morgan, and I live in Upstate NY. What a wonderful post you wrote. Thank you so much for this.
Please stay safe abs thank you again
Hi Stephanie! I’m glad to meet you in this virtual space. Thank you for your kind comment. I hope that you are doing well during these unusual, disrupted, and disruptive days. Bless you.
I, too, have turned a corner in this time of isolation–from anxiety and fear to hopeful anticipation. I believe every curse has a blessing, and I am now able to see the blessings of this time, including that I can now see it as sacred time and space. I pray mostly for those who live in institutions (of any kind–nursing homes, assisted living facilities, prisons, youth detention centers, etc.) and children who live in abusive homes. Their vulnerability touches my heart and soul–and I lift them to God every day. I am also filled with gratitude for my home, family and friends, work and health. Thank you for asking.
I’m so glad to hear how you are Madeline and the lovely things that you are grateful for today. I love hearing how you’ve turned a corner toward hopeful anticipation. Beautiful. Thank you for sharing your heartfelt concern for those in institutions and abusive homes–so good to be reminded to be prayerful on their behalf. Thank you.
Susan, This was a beautiful piece for such a time as this. Thank you for asking how we are all doing! How am I doing? Well, on Monday I feel creative. On Tuesday I feel lost. On Wednesday I feel angry and alone. On Thursday I feel energetic and determined. On Friday I feel alone, lonely, lonesome. On Saturday I feel hopeful, creative, and determined. On Sunday I feel sad, and vacillate between hopeful and hopeless. Today is a vacillating day. It snowed in Michigan last PM but I am hopeful that hope wins out and that Cecelia and I will be taking a walk soon. Blessings to all of you creative, loving, beautiful Red Tent women out there! Susan, thank you.
Barbara, thank you for responding to my question. I appreciate how well and honestly you’ve named the complexity of how you are in your response. I totally get the fluctuations from day to day! I hear every feeling that you’ve named, pause to consider how that has been for you, and recognize how I’ve experienced the ebb and flow of these feelings too during these disrupted days and uncertain times. Your description of vacillating from hopeful to hopeless resonates with me. I am praying for spring to arrive soon in Michigan, and with it sunshine and warmth that will nourish you and increase your hope.
This post is so rich, Susan. Thank you for the balm your question “how are you?” brings. We are well here in Johnson City. My husband has remained well with the threat of infection never far away as he is among the most vulnerable. I am so thankful for the gift of these days spent only at home with him. This time is sacred indeed. I love teaching from home—but miss my students and grieve for the undergrads whose high school and college graduations have been cancelled. It’s a both/and tension that often stretches me thin. Thank you for being curious about how we are doing and letting us know how you are. Such sweet connection.
Christine, I am so happy to hear that you and Tom are doing well. I had thought about him as all of this started unfolding and am relieved to hear that he is well. I hear and identify with your naming of the both/and tension of this time and how it stretches you thin. Your description is very helpful to me as I navigate this time that both feels like a sweet gift of time and togetherness with my boys yet also feels exhausting, alarming, and sorrow laden. How can both exist simultaneously, yet they do. Thank you for responding – the connection as well as your words are good for my heart today.
Hi Susan. Thank you for your encouragement and care. Thank you for reminding me that there are things I can do today…and that they matter. Thank you so very much.
Jen, I am thankful that my words provided encouragement to you. You matter and however you’re navigating this time matters. I hope that you are continuing to receive good care and offering immense kindness to yourself as we continue to journey through this disruptive time. Bless you.
Susan this is beautiful. Your heart is so deep and generous, Thank you so very much for this. You bring so many good questions and insights. The days seemed so mixed for me. Your writing is chocked full of so many nuggets – Once again a generous gift from your good heart!
Megan, thank you so much for your kind words. I am glad to hear from you, and I resonate with what you’ve named. The days are mixed for me too, and the ups-and-downs, highs-and-lows hold such tension. I pray that in the disruption of these days you are finding people, places, and practices that anchor you. Take care! <3