Surviging our second lockdown

We all remember where we were when the pandemic began more than a year ago. The initial spread of the virus, the general feeling of fear tempered with solidarity, and the strange novelty of social distancing all came together to form a mosaic of experiences never before encountered. But the initial curiosity of what life would look like during a pandemic soon gave way to malaise and despair, as entire families retreated into lives dominated by fear and depression, and the ever present feeling of emotional isolation. While many were able to salvage the freedom of an unbound schedule to take on new projects, many more slowly found themselves adrift at sea. 

Our family was no exception; while I was able to start a surprisingly successful online teaching ministry during the pandemic that kept me both sane and productive, I also had to watch languorously as my wife and children began to fall off the map. My wife exhausted her creativity to improve upon the situation for our children, but eventually languished with feelings of despondency and futility as a mother. My children strained against the newly imposed boundaries of our townhouse, and struggled with their truncated social life. When every day feels exactly the same, life starts to lose its meaning. As the months wore on, the days begun to melt together into one long day that never seemed to end; after all, as Jesus taught, eternal life means nothing without the abundant life to inhabit it, and life on lock-down is anything but abundant life. 

As I sat down with Rebecca to plan this (our second family lockdown), I was optimistic – there were so many things that we could do with the extra time –there were updates to write and so much teaching to plan out, surely, we could accomplish all that during a quarantine. But alas, how little did I know. Sure, we had a plan for this quarantine - but almost immediately our whole family began sinking into the quicksand of never-ending days, and abandoned all plans as we scrambled for a branch to hold onto. After four or five days in, I couldn’t even remember what day of the week it was. As we were both infected with COVID, we also felt exhausted all the time. The days seemed forever long, and yet never long enough to get anything done - and our domestic bliss turned into domestic slavery – as Rebecca and I found ourselves cleaning up the same messes and spills and dirty diaper-related emergencies just minutes after seemingly having already attended to them. And yet I still felt this nagging thought pursuing me, the urge to get things done – to be productive. But after two months of sickness, I find myself completely emptyhanded; not a single a one of the projects that I attempted to complete were finished – ((not even this newsletter!))

Still, God has a plan.