ISLAND LIFE DURING COVID-19

Hello, from my island to yours. It’s rather quiet this morning and it’s not a good day on the beach as it’s chilly and has been drizzling, so I’m hanging out in my hut.

While our world feels out of control, we are in control, to a great extent, of our secluded island. Here, we allow what voices surround us, and what our attitude will be. We allow our environment to be one of fear and catastrophic thinking, or one of peace. I’m not saying this lightly, it’s a constant choice.

My heart is with you today and I’m praying that all is well. I find my pandemic emotions all over the place, from standing victoriously to lying awake in fear to stressing over if I’m doing enough to protect my mother. I feel the responsibility to my siblings of being the live-in caregiver for a 94-year-old woman, so I only leave for the foot doctor or PT. My son leaves our groceries on the doorstep.

I miss Saturday mornings with my friends at Panera. I miss seeing my kids and grands. I’d love to do my own grocery shopping. Yesterday I asked my sister if she’d cut my hair. Yet, this is also a time of slowing down, of reading more books, and of being creative.

My island is small, as I talked about in my last blog, but it’s joyful. One day my son and daughter came by and we practiced social distancing while catching up. Our plan was to enjoy the grass and swing in the front yard, however, the lawn guys showed up right then to spray, relegating us to the driveway. Shady umbrellas took care of the heat.

I think the voices in our head are the hardest to banish. Lately, in my fear over my mom getting sick, I catch myself begging. “Please God, please, don’t let her get sick.” As soon as I hear myself I change it to, “God, I don’t have to beg you. You love her more than I do and I trust you. Thank you for your protection and that no matter what happens, we walk in your love.” You’d be surprised how many times a day I choose to change my begging to “Thank you.”

I feel the pall of fear and uncertainty around me. However, I choose peace. I guard my ears and eyes and I choose what I allow in. My heart cares, but I make choices to walk tall and victorious. My motto is, I walk in wisdom, do the best I can, and trust Jesus.

I choose to change the voices in my head to truth, and I keep my eyes on Jesus. I have struggled with my own times of premeditated suffering, for example, since I’m responsible for my mom, should my children or grands get sick, I can’t help with them. That’s hard on a mother’s heart. This week I had to explain to my mom that if she does get sick and go to the hospital, we are not allowed to come with her. She knows that Jesus’ arms carry her, even when none of us can be there, but that would be hard for me. I’ve had to put together a packet of her vital info (and her kid’s phone numbers) so if necessary, I can send it with her to the hospital.

On the other hand, I had to laugh as I sat and drank coffee with my friend Chong a few days ago, on the front porch and keeping our distance, of course. Three kinds of sanitizer sat on the table with my coffee. These are strange times indeed!

Last week in the doctor’s office for my foot I became fearful, cringing over the germs I might be picking up to bring home to my mom. I was standing up so as to not touch the chairs, keeping my distance, and doing the best I could to stay germ-free. Suddenly I remembered that I walk under God’s protection and love, and as his bride I don’t need to cower in fear. Immediately I straightened my shoulders, held my head up, and put a smile on my face. I want to be someone Jesus can be proud of during this time. As his bride I want to compliment him, to stand tall and brave in a world of fear and panic. Remember, we’re riding on the white horse behind our Prince. Let’s look like it.

I’ll leave you with two things I’ve found interesting that have come out of this pandemic—one global and one local.

I was talking to my daughter Jessie yesterday and we voiced how, before our stay-at-home orders, we lived lives separate from our neighbors. Each of us were in our own little world as we rushed about living our lives. Now, in an interesting twist, being quarantined has made us more aware of our neighbors, more friendly and interested in connecting with them (from a distance, of course). We wave and call across the yard, feeling like a true neighborhood instead of a group of individuals. I love the picture I saw of a sign that says, “United We Stand—Six Feet Apart.”

On a global scale, scientists have noticed something interesting. As a result of an earth whose people have basically come to a grinding halt, their instruments have measured a quieter earth. This has allowed them to hear things they’ve not been able to hear over our usual noise, like earthquake tremors.

“Belgian seismologists are not the only ones to notice the effects of lockdown. Celeste Labedz, a graduate student in geophysics at the California Institute of Technology in Pasadena, tweeted that a similar fall in noise had been picked up by a station in Los Angeles. “The drop is seriously wild,” she said.”

You can read more about it HERE if you’re interested.

Let’s take control of our reaction to this pandemic by 1) customizing our secluded island to only allow in what voices we choose, and 2) choose wisely.