As I read this, my heart goes out to Sam. Frodo has been taken by orcs after Sam thought he was dead. He felt completely alone and like an utter failure. Nothing on their trip to Mordor had gone according to plan, and now he, Sam, the gardener, had to find a way to rescue Frodo. Everything felt hopeless until he saw that one, twinkling star. The start that reminded him light is always out of reach of the shadow.
If you had told me just over two weeks ago that not only would a pandemic be declared, but that my province would declare a state of emergency and that my only physical interactions would be with my husband, my 2.5 year old, and my 9 month old, I don't know that I would have believed you.
Initially, life didn't change all that much. I'm an introvert. Jordan is an introvert. We are fairly used to sticking close to home. Besides, socializing with two young kids doesn't look the way socializing used to look! But I have not gone to a store or out in my car for over two weeks now. My kids have only seen their parents for the last two weeks. And at the start that was okay. We kept to our routine (minus Jordan working from home for a bit), and life continued on. Then the routine fell away (thank you, eight month sleep regression combined with teething), Anson started really pushing boundaries to see what he could get away with, and sleep remained elusive for me. Yesterday, we returned to our routine. As we went for our morning walk, Anson pointed to every person he saw, remarking excitedly, "Mama, PEOPLE!" as if "people" was a mythological creature he had only read about in bedtime stories (#socialdistancingwin).
In the last two weeks, I have felt myself alternate between feeling like life is still pretty normal, to feeling overwhelmed with anxiety. I don't know how long this will last. I don't know what the implications of this are going to be on my family. I miss friends. I miss being able to hope in the stroller and walk to the store. I miss church. I'm frustrated that because of an unseen water problem in our basement we have to gut what was our finished basement, and my husband has to do it entirely on his own. And I'm scared. I'm scared because my sister is a nurse in a small community that already has a confirmed case of COVID-19. I'm scared because my parents and in-laws are in that age bracket that makes them more susceptible. I'm scared because my husband is out their working and potentially getting sick too.
At the peak of my anxiety, my Facebook memories brought up the above Tolkein quotations. And I was reminded that this is a dark time. The "Shadow" seems so strong right now. But there is a Light that the darkness and shadow can't touch. God has a way of using literature to get my attention and speak to me, whether it is Little Women or The Lord of the Rings.
On one of our walks I decided to introduce Anson to a bit more about God. We talked about God as Creator. He spent the rest of our walk pointing out everything he saw and telling me that God made it. When we got home, he sat Gwen down and explained to her that God made her, and him, and Nana and Opa, and Pake and Beppe.
This week Jordan had to return to work. On nights when he works late and I do bedtime alone, I will usually put Gwen to sleep first. Then Anson curls up in our bed and we read several books. After that I will put a movie on for us to watch part of (due to the aforementioned basement gut our TV is now in our bedroom). So tonight we were cuddled up watching Frozen 2. Instantly he picked up on the fact that the mother sings a song to the two princesses before they go to sleep. Anson connected that to the fact that Jordan and I sing to him before he goes to sleep every night too.
I suppose my point in writing this is to say that despite how hopeless things can see, God keeps revealing things to me that speak of hope. I've seen people come together to deliver meals to a couple having a new baby. I've seen people checking in with others to make sure they are all doing okay. I've witnessed people having to make hard choices in order to take care of those around them. And as Anson reminded me today at bedtime that "God is outside and in my heart, and Gwennie's heart, and mama and dada's heart," I was reminded that God is omnipresent. That He is everywhere. That He sees everything. And that even though I have no idea why He allows some of things that happen to happen, I know that He is still good.
And so, despite dark towers and shadows, I am reminded of that Twinkling Star, that Light, that cannot be reached by them.
No comments:
Post a Comment