This week begins to feel markedly different from the others. A friend prayed for me a couple of nights ago and I definitely begin to feel cracks in the wall. I reach out to people, send a few texts, make a few calls- actually seek out conversations with the outside world! And… the anxiety twinges. Not much; not overwhelming; but enough of a niggle to observe that there is something about social interaction that sets me on edge. And this is new(ish). Interesting!
Begin to feel this social distancing malarkey is a unique psychological experiment- find out what makes you tick by process of elimination?!
Anyway, moving swiftly on…
It’s Saturday night movie night… Ducktales! (Woohoo!) Good ole dose of childhood nostalgia anyone?!
On Sunday we help Husband conduct the All Age Service online, which is waaay more fun than I expected it to be! The kids end up on screen more than planned, which falls far short of the ideal I normally have for protecting them online. However… somehow this does feel different? I guess it is unchartered waters and we are all just feeling our way around. Nobody ever planned or prepared for the days in which the churches are locked every Sunday! Anyway. The kids have a blast, people they know get a lift from seeing them, and they do just add joy to everything, really.
(Besides… the videos will be removed later, I decide, after the ball has rolled full speed down the hill!)
Later: ruin all the neighbours’ quiet Sunday afternoons by sanding a large piece of furniture in the back garden. Then read the news. Then vow not to read it again for the rest of the week…
Still, the mind begins to itch.
As of yet, we still have no personal connection to this virus. It remains abstract; the numbers — though sad and unfortunate- are still impersonal statistics. My experience continues to centre around the isolation; the determination to be grateful for the extra time we get to enjoy, and the resolve to resist fear.
Husband begins to wonder at the financial implications for the Church and, consequently, us- but I refuse to go there. Trust God, be grateful, stay home, (paint furniture). It’s a fortunate position to be in.
Home-school this week, and we are following Jesus through Holy Week. Today we act out the temple/market scene and then do English and Maths with money. Again, I think I’m enjoying this as much as they are!
Evening, however, Husband is working; so I continue putting together our yearly photo book. I’m up to April 2019- Easter, this time last year- and for the first time in weeks I let my mind consider what we could be doing right now! The images of the beach and the woods and the community party and even St. Looless-with-the-posh-new-loo cause my heart to ache a little bit. Not too much; I’m not desperate or anything; but it is more than enough to break through the numbness once again.
Wow, so serious this week?!
(Maybe that’s why Tuesday is a disaster…)
Husband leaves early to man the food outlet, and the kids refuse to do PE without him. We do have another great morning of lessons … but then the wheels fall off. It’s so sunny outside, I presume- as per the last 2.5 weeks- that they would love to play freely. They don’t. They bicker and fight and cry and whinge, and I shout ALOT. And suddenly… there it is. I get flashbacks to the actual experience of our last Easter holidays, which were in actual fact so awful that I think I dedicated a blog to it?! Husband was working and I was tearing my hair out as the kids did nothing but fight… I wonder why none of the pictures in that deceitful photo book actually reflect this?!
But I’m thankful for the memory. Time (and photography!) glosses over most things. As this is the first bad day in almost 3 weeks, (a living miracle, it turns out!) I doubt I’ll remember it for long.
Instead, ‘I’ll remember stuff like this:
Receive two separate photo messages from people out and about in nearby beauty spots. Burn with what I think is righteous indignation, but is actually just jealousy. Cabin fever is definitely starting to rear it’s ugly head this week! Breathe. Repent. Turn off phone. Focus.
There’s a sleazy guy in the gym this morning trying to stand too close to me! He farts on a lunge and I trip over a ride-on toy trying to get away! This lounge is starting to feel WAY TOO SMALL for the 5 of us! (The internal irritation indicates that cabin-fever may not be the only friend to raise it’s ugly head this week… explains a lot!) Breathe. Guffaw! Repent. Focus… you get the idea!
Home school is once again lovely, and the kids once again want to play all afternoon. Which is just as well, as we have a disaster the likes of which would not have been tolerated yesterday! While filling up a bucket for the paddling pool, the Eldest puts her full weight onto the edge of a high stack of recycling bins, sending another bucket full of paintbrushes in turpentine solution flying across the kitchen. It hits the wall and covers EVERYTHING. The place is swimming. At that precise moment, of course, all three children decide they’re done with outdoor play and want to come in now. I ferry them into the lounge one by one and put on the TV- on a hot afternoon- while I attempt to mop up the chemical spill. Obviously, no one wants to watch it. Plan B. Send the oldest two upstairs and rock the youngest to sleep. Husband is in yet another Zoom meeting and sends them back down; I send them up; he comes down to plead his case and I send him into the kitchen to plead mine! I win. I lay the little one to sleep on the sofa “where I can see her” and we move as much furniture into the garden as we can manage. I’ve half mopped up when the Eldest comes downstairs, JUMPS from the stairs onto the sofa- i.e. JUMPING ONTO HER SLEEPING SISTER- who is now very , very much awake.
In short, the clean up takes all afternoon with a babe in arms, so that, by the time Husband descends the stairs, he appears to me like a celestial being, sent to save us all!
Still. It has been a good and peaceful day- internally!- but I cannot wait for bedtime. Which is funny… as the Eldest will not go to sleep. She is up and down so often that by half past eight I give up and put her to work waxing furniture. She talks about poo and “trumping” during my adult hours and I’m irritated. I go to put her to bed again and she says, “Mummy? Please can we look at the stars together?” And… my irritation stills. I’ve been in the garden at least an hour now and haven’t once looked up. The sky is so clear! So I say yes. We take blankets and pillows out to the front garden, which is clearer, and lie there for almost an hour! We count 11- including a super bright one I’m sure is Venus- and join them up with our fingers; but as it gets darker, more and more appear and soon there are too many to count. I can’t remember the last time I looked in wonder at the skies; nor turned and fully took in the awe and wonder of a six year old child.
We go to sleep listening to “So Will I“, the words penetrating my soul and awakening my heart to worship in a way I have not experienced for a long time. This week has been harder already- but an even deeper, more profound sense of gratitude still seeks to prevail.
I’ll keep it short!
Rainbow walk. Easter Tree. Sourdough. Last Supper. Agape.
See… Every day is a brand new day!