We’re finding our stride. When Mom called today to chat I was able to say to her that we are doing well and life seems doable again. Not that it wasn’t all along, or that we’ve returned to what was normal for life way back in 2019. I am only saying that I believe we have finally adjusted to doing the re-sets every week or daily as the need arises, being more okay about them than at first.
We’re discovering our resilience to change. We’ve learned that the sun comes up and goes down, that life continues not that much different, even during a pandemic. It’s not that we think we’re invincible or immune. But now that Covid-19 is touching our own, we’ve stopped feeling hounded. It’s hard to explain… now we can settle in on the actualities instead of worrying over the what-ifs.
Certainly I am not making any bold statements about how we’ll be when it’s over. Besides the changes may hit harder and faster again, with that now familiar ebb and flow. In any case, we have Hope. And Jesus is still the same, always.
So in June, right now, we have adopted a sort of routine for cabin work and regular work at “home”. Except we aren’t sure where home really is anymore. We aren’t confused. We are in transition. This week we shopped for materials for the walls of the utility room at the cabin.
Elv started on it last time we were there, this soul of our off-grid house. Next weekend when we go up he will continue the building project, thus step by step, we shall one day have a finished cabin.
Then there’s the small house living and our jobs during the week … the daily routines. Did you know that in a tiny house wherein dwell two people; they should take turns getting up in the morning? There’s not space for the two getting-up routines. It’s better to lie lazily in bed until he’s gotten to the coffee-in – hand-settling-into-his-quiet-time part of the morning.
We’ve decided though that we really, really don’t care for tiny house living. It could be okay for long term for one person. Maybe. But we don’t recommend it. It hasn’t hurt us to practice our manners more with each other, and we’re closer to each other’s thought processing, somehow. But seriously, more space to move and breathe and think is a good thing. Bring on the two full stories of cabin living.
I write in my journal the weather, garden progress, people events, and what Elv and I are learning and pondering. The things we laugh over or argue about. Since Covid began my journaling is more. I filled a hundred pages in half that many days. The hard things and the mundane. There’s ordinary happy stuff, but the clawing for hope, too.
Those reading my take on Covid and The Rioting will probably shake their heads in wonder at my ignorance or blindness of what really happened. I wish I could reassure them that I am not so oblivious as I am frustrated with all the loud voices. I am saddened and frustrated, I know, I repeat. But I am. Why does it have to be so loud and complicated? The gospel isn’t. It’s simple. We were all created in God’s image. We all need salvation. Jesus died for all of us alike. Whosoever will may come.
AND, God’s creation is orderly. There are dependable scientific rules pertaining to viruses and what they do. How else could a scientist learn about them to create a vaccine? God gave man the capabilities of testing and treating. It’s a gift, really. We need to trust the Controller.
Can you imagine the clamor that comes up to Creator God from us these days! It’s not confusing to Him. He’s got this. So when my journaling is silent, it’s because I do not believe that the loudest voice wins. Only God knows the whole truth.
Ultimately, understanding our new normal hasn’t been easy. And it is certainly not a once and done deal. I remember this word of wisdom from Mom as she was coming through a very difficult time in her life. “Keep the mundane routines of life during the hard times. It’s healing to the soul.”