From Strength to Strength

As I began this post I had many titles pouring through my head. Titles such as, “We’ll Get through this” or “My Kids are Driving Me CRAZY” or “Understanding without Excusing”… But the truth is, not one of these titles fit perfectly. As a matter of fact, I’m pulling so hard on the reins to bring my jumbled thoughts together that I fear I might just rip them.

My heart has gone out to a number of people throughout this crisis:

• The elderly/lonely
• Mom’s of school aged children struggling desperately to adapt
• Children from broken homes, who’ve lost the stability that school gave them
• Those who’ve had a loved one who has suffered or died alone
• People struggling with anxiety or depression, left alone with their thoughts

I think some people assume that mothers who previously homeschooled are now laughing and looking at the world and saying, “Look how hard I had it! Now you finally understand!” or maybe a smug, “What’s wrong, can’t take care of your OWN children?”

I can tell you truthfully, I feel none such things. I feel anything but smug. I just feel very, very heartbroken. Because I know how difficult homeschooling was in the best of times, and these are not the best of times. Oh how I wish I could individually hug each of these working mothers who find themselves suddenly stuck at home, doing the very thing they have never wanted: Homeschooling.

I got to CHOOSE it. I was able to slowly adapt to it, one child at a time. I could get outside help, research homeschooling methods and curriculum’s, join support groups, meet with other homeschooling moms and have grandparents visit. I was able to arrange fun field trips, work at our own pace and PLAN. I had all summer to plan out agenda, schedules, prizes and reward systems.

These poor mothers had a week and have none of those opportunities. Some of them have full-time jobs. How alone and lost many women must be feeling! And their children… what an adjustment!

Despite having homeschooled before, our kids are feeling it too. And acting out in VERY unpleasant ways. Fights, scratching and hitting, which were once just occasional issues among our five children, have become hourly occurrences. Yesterday my six year old PEED on his older brothers pillow. Randomly. Without reason. Ahhh!!!

WHY?!?

The kids beg constantly for more and more and MORE screen time. They lash out in anger at small things… but really, deep down, there’s more going on than what meets the eye.

The world is changing. We all know it. They feel it. My children haven’t left the house in a week. And when we do leave the house together, they stay in the van. They feel like prisoners, with no clue about what’s going on in the world around them other than the conversations they overhear us adults having over the phone.

It must be terrifying.

Not that I’m excusing the terrible behaviour. I’m learning to understand it. There’s ALWAYS a reason for for the outbursts. This doesn’t excuse outbursts, it helps me to understand them so that I can properly deal with each one as it comes.

Now let’s back up a bit. At the beginning of this week I was almost overcome by self-pity and a real, deep hurt towards other believers was starting to grow. It started Sunday and grew and grew in my heart until Thursday morning, I felt so overcome by the thought that no one cared about me, that I was dispensable, I was honestly terrified at my own thoughts.

Ironically, God had arranged that I was to lead a Bible study on Philippians 2 that afternoon (on zoom). This Bible Study has been water to my soul. Thursday was no exception. I found myself reading these very words aloud with six other women,

“Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather in humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of others.”

Philippians 2:3-4

What had I been doing for the past four days? Sulking. Wallowing in self pity. Thinking about me, me, ME!!! And it occurred to me: if everyone lived like this, looking not only to their own interests but thinking about others, how much different would our world look?

Think of it!

What if… my thoughts were mainly focused on how I could help, serve or love others, rather than how they are not “helping, serving or loving me??”

What if, we all lived like this?

You know what would happen? I wouldn’t HAVE to look out for my needs, because the people in my life would be looking out for me! And they wouldn’t have to “look out for number one” because the rest of us would be looking out for them as well.

And it occurred to me… I could sit around, waiting for others to listen to this verse and live it out.

Or I could live it out first.

And you know what? From that very moment, I had joy! Great joy! It’s like I was given the freedom to take my eyes off of my own problems (which I couldn’t control) and could turn my eyes on to others, and how I could help them (which I CAN control).

And in an instant, I went from being helpless, to helpful.

And that, my friends, isn’t me being “stronger” or “better” than anyone else. It’s me learning to go from “strength to strength” – leaning every single moment on the life-giving words of God.

 

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Boring Updates and Much Ado about Nothing

When COVID-19 first began impacting my world, my screen time went up by hours. It wasn’t that I was immediately self-isolating and needed the connection. In fact, at first I was so shocked that I was definitely NOT social distancing. It was simply because I needed to know what was happening.

What was happening?!? I still don’t think I really know.

On March 12, my life was pretty normal. I went out for a rare evening coffee with a friend. I decided to pick up a few groceries as well, just because I had started to hear stories of things getting crazy around the world.

Imagine my surprise when the pasta aisle was empty, as was the toilet paper aisle and flour, sugar, etc. Shaking my head at “those crazies” I grabbed enough for my week and went home.

The next day, on March 13, our school division announced that schools would be closed the following three weeks.

I was completely shocked. I felt many things that day. Distrust in my governments “overreaction”. Confusion, as I’m not on most social media and I don’t watch the news. Mostly, I felt numb and indifferent. Numb, because the ramifications of what the shut down of civilization would mean hadn’t fully hit me yet. Indifferent, because I am a mother. A stay at home mother. Social distancing has been my life for the past decade.

Yet, sometime in the following weeks as more places closed, as lockdowns grew tighter, as people started loosing their jobs, the tears came. They fell and they fell.

And now they are no more.

I haven’t cried for a week. Mostly, I have been angry. A deep, unsettling anger, at no one and nothing in particular. Just angry at being stuck. I’m a “do-er”. Now I’m encouraged to not go and do, but to stay put. It sucks me dry.

But enough about feelings, I am writing today to share that my life right now is about as interesting as watching seeds grow, which is precisely what I’m doing these days.

I planted seeds and they are taking longer than usual to grow, but every day or so, another one pops up reminding me that life can’t be rushed. And patience produces fruit. Or in this case, vegetables.

I also bake daily. Yesterday it was banana bread and an Easter dessert. The banana bread actually was a part of a funnier story. Want to hear it?

Well sure! I’ll tell you, since it’s the most interesting thing that’s happened to me all month.

I ordered groceries online and was given FOUR CONTAINERS OF SOURCREAM.

Large containers.

What I had really ordered was yogurt. To eat with granola. For breakfast. And obviously this was the best replacement?!? LOL!! Anyway, there was no way I was going to wait in line just to complain but goodness did I have a laugh. And then promptly changed my entire weeks meal plan to revolve around sour cream.

When life gives you sour cream… Make Nachos and banana bread!

Really people, those are the most exciting moments of my life this past month.

Like everyone else, I am on screens far too much, homeschooling, staying home, shopping only when absolutely necessary, surviving boredom and stir-crazy kids, who fight and bicker, and then whine and complain. In cycles.

I make meals from scratch and then clean them up.

I read lots, but I’m not really in the mood for writing these days. Life isn’t inspiring enough to write fiction. Once the world stops being fiction, I’ll write again.

Me and the kids finished four 500 piece puzzles, all of which were missing a single piece.

One. Single. Piece. (I may have found the reason for my anger!)

I also run, though the weather is cold again, and who really wants to run on a treadmill indoors after getting a taste of the fresh outdoor air these past weeks?

So as you sit around doing nothing on this fine Easter Day, take comfort, we are all doing nothing. And I’ll read about your nothing while you read about mine. Together we’ll get through this.

One sour cream container at a time.

Tears that Say what Words Won’t

I cry a lot these days.

I speak little. I write little.

I think my tears are trying to say all the things I can’t get myself to express.

To my family, they say, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry that life looks so different. I’m sorry that we just sit at home all the time. I’m sorry that I’m not more creative. I’m sorry for all the friendships on hold, for all the cancelled plans, for all the disappointments.”

To the lonely they say, “You are not forgotten. I wish I could be there, comforting you.”

To my parents, sisters and friends they say, “I miss you. I really miss talking. I miss laughing together. I miss seeing you face to face.”

To all those who have been laid off, who are fearful of their future and uncertain of how to pay their next bills they say, “I wish you could have your job back. I wish you could work. I’m sorry for your fear. I am here for you. I can’t give you everything you need, but what I have, I will gladly share. Ask for help.”

To my dear friend who sits quarantined in her room while her father lays in a hospital bed in a coma from COVID-19, my tears say, “I’m praying for you. I’m so sorry. I long to give you a hug, to tell you that everything will be alright. I’m sorry I can’t.”

To the Church they say, “Are we OK? Are we being the church? Do you still pray when you’re all alone? Are you still out there, seeking God? Are we showing the world Christ in this time? Or are we just distractingly surviving this like everyone else? Are we using this time to call on God, turning back to him, back to our families? Or are we just complaining and binge watching Netflix?”

To my blogging friends – yes friends – though we’ve never met… my tears say, “I see you. I don’t have the words to comfort your fears, your dashed hopes, your anxiety or your loneliness. But I see you. I hear you. Even if I don’t have the strength to comment.”

To God, they say, “I trust you completely… But how long will this last? How bad will it get? I hate how uncertain everything is!”

As the tears fall, they speak, a universal language of pain and hope to the world: This is hard…but we will get through this.