Shelter in Place

     Covid 19 has changed life all around the world in a matter of days, even in Montana where "social distancing" is way of life. Starting today, all Montanans are supposed to "shelter in place". It is a nuisance because going where we want and doing what we want is also a Montana way of life, but let me tell you about my "place". My shelter is a four bedroom, three bath home on a half acre lot. Our home is warm, comfortable and fairly clean. Whatever is not clean isn't because I lack resources, and certainly not time, just motivation. There are beautiful places to walk nearby. My pantry, refrigerator and freezer contain enough food to last for weeks, not because I hoarded, we always have that much. And as long as we have electricity, we have well water that tastes better than any bottled water I have tried. I even made a back room deal for toilet paper last week. And the only shortage of food and paper products is from the shortage of brain cells in the hoarders themselves.
     My husband and grown children all have jobs considered essential services, so they still have income. Although I would not have minded if my husband had some time at home for some of the many projects that need doing. Most importantly, we are all healthy, not even colds to worry might mean something worse. My perpetual winter cough is usually just annoying, but this year, attracts attention as if I were the current equivalent of Typhoid Mary--"Corona Connie". Our church service is available online and we can view it together by live stream, which is not the same as fellowship, but it is more than would have been possible years ago. I can also access BSF lectures and lessons online.
     And in America, if not in third world and/or socialized medicine countries, most of us have access to good medical care. There were no antibiotics or ventilators available in the Spanish flu pandemic 100 years ago.
     In other words, we are blessed. This is not house arrest, it is homecoming. I do not think most Americans fear dying of Covid 19, the death rate is very low, but I pray that this time of sabbatical from the sports, school and social activities that normally fill our lives, will change our priorities. Christians may know that God and family are all that truly matter, but we get caught up in the same mindless busyness that the world does. We are made for fellowship, but we are also salt and light, even when we worship at home and witness through social media. God has changed life all around the world in a matter of days. I pray that those who usually practice spiritual distancing will find a place in Christ's shelter.

Now Comes the Hard Part

     When someone you love dies, even when it is expected, it is a shock. God gives, what I call, gracethesia to get us through those times because there are many things that have to be done in those first days of loss--calls and decisions to make, a memorial to plan, feeding those gathered at your house, thank you notes. A grim business agenda accompanies death. And despite the difficulty, it feels good to do those things, to do what remains to be done to honor the one you love. And then the funeral is over, the guests go home, all that remains are legal matters and paperwork. And those feel like they are of more benefit to nameless bureaucracy, or the survivor, than the person who died.
   Now comes the hard part. After about a month, God begins to back off the grace because a responsible anesthesiologist does not leave his patient numb longer than necessary, even if it causes pain. Numbness is meant to be a resting place, not a lifestyle. Friends and family go back to their own lives and homes, but the bereaved cannot. Their life, their home, will not go back to normal. Their new normal is finding out moment by moment, how to be alone, who to call when being alone is too hard to bear. Or decisions are too difficult to make. Or something breaks. Besides their heart. Healing that will take a long time.
   But I know this only from Griefshare and friends who have lost husbands or children. Those losses are different from the ones I have experienced. Losing my mother seven years ago, made no significant difference in my life, and that is a loss in its own way, I suppose. The hard part of grief is that the monument to their memory is made out of our own tears.

10 If Thens

If you think global warming is the greatest threat to mankind, then Corona virus shouldn't worry you.

If the computer models regarding Covid 19 numbers are wildly inaccurate, then how can we trust them about global warming.

If you don't enjoy waiting in line for limited access to common household products, then you wouldn't like socialism, where that is a way of life.

If you think hoarding is unfair, then socialism is the answer, because  people become too poor to hoard.

If you think toilet paper is the most important need for quarantine, then you will need some new recipes.

If you think access to medical care is limited in the U.S. now, then you would really hate Medicare for All. 

If you think social distancing is confining, then try measuring a casket.

If you think man controls his destiny, then you'd better not get sick.

If you think open borders are a good idea, then you should be okay with letting feverish strangers in your front door.

If you think Covid is scary, then picture pandemic prior to antibiotics and ventilators.

If the odds of dying from Corona virus concern you, then calculate the odds of surviving a concentration camp? Abortion clinic? Never dying?

Quiet Men

 

    Now that my father-in-law's funeral is over, I feel free to post the poem I wrote for him, and for all quiet men God has blessed me with.

Quiet Men

Quiet men do not become famous.

You won’t see their names in the newspaper.

They have followers, but not on Facebook.

They are not posting their exploits on social media

because they are too busy working.

Their followers are those who watch them

 and want to be like them.

Quiet men mow their lawns,

keep the house and car in repair,

mend their sons’ broken toys

 and their daughters’ broken hearts.

They work hard even when no one is watching,

even if their job is boring and unfulfilling,

because their family is depending on them.

Quiet men respect their parents growing up

and take care of them in their old age.

They serve their country and their God,

but not in the ways that get recognition.

They love their wives,

teach their sons what it means to be a man,

and become their daughter’s first hero.

Quiet men help their family,

 friends, and even strangers

without expecting anything in return.

They wear their faith like a second skin.

It is as much a part of their lives as breathing.

Thanks, Del, for your humble walk with God

through life, and all the way home.

What Appears to Be

What Appears to Be

 

In the barrenness of March,

which even the snow abandoned early,

winter appears to be winning.

Tree limbs without a hint of buds,

   the lifeless sod resembles

 a weathered burlap sack.

But beneath the surface,

which still appears abandoned,

  spring is patiently waiting.

Sap, to awaken the sleeping trees

new grass, to invade its dormant cover

like an unseen army.

In the valley of the shadow

where you, my loved one, hover

death appears to be winning.

But as your soul abandons

its lifeless shell, Jesus awaits

and endless life appears.

Widow's Walk

    Some older homes on the seacoast have a rooftop platform known as the widow's walk. From that height, women could see if their husband's ship had made it safely back to harbor. I think of that sometimes--the widow's walk--because in the back of our minds, most married women know we will spend the end of our lives alone, as widows. Statistics show it. But we are not married to statistics, statistics do not take into account how much we love our husbands. We watch our friends go through it. Two friends whose husbands dropped dead so suddenly their bodies needed a couple more days to realize it was time to shut down. A friend from church, who had two weeks with her husband between diagnosis of late stage cancer and the complications of chemo that ended his life. Some who had more time to let go, some who had less. Our minds accept it. But our hearts, our hearts are never ready. Only God can give us the grace to endure the tearing of the one flesh relationship that marriage is designed to be.
     There is no turning back, no way to shelter our hearts from the pain to come. What anchors us is the truth God will never allow anything in our lives that He will not give us the grace to bear. So when our husbands travel beyond our sight, safe, but in another harbor, we enter the widow's walk. We no longer have a choice except to watch, through the storm raging around us, for the daily arrival of God's grace.

(For Pat, in the storm)