Updated: May 10
Day unknown of COVID quarantine.
I’m really not sure. I thought Saturday was Friday all day. I haven’t put on jeans in who knows when. It’s going to be an unfortunate event when it occurs. Last night, I brushed my product-less hair and put on lipstick while I thought to myself “tomorrow we are taking a drive!”. The need to feel human struck. The need to go, do, be. But alas, bedtime hit, and a monsoon poured down over North Alabama. I awoke this morning thinking, “we ain’t going on no drive. Please Lord, coffee now.”
Isn’t it funny how we plan, and then the moment fades? Aren’t you glad we have a Father who actually follows through on His plans for us? If we allow Him to, He will always complete the good work that He starts.
The other night I reminded my children of how during World War II, families were hidden in attics for years on end. No ability to feel the warmth of the sun on their skin. No ability to take a drive. No trampoline for children to go get their wiggles out on. Not even the option to go to a grocery store. The need to stay quiet the bulk of the day and night lest they be found. Literally inside 4 walls for years until either the war ended or the hunter found them. Can you imagine?
Generations before us have endured so much, and each time, they came out changed. Marked by the walk God had them on, whether they acknowledged that piece or not. They endured, and the result was new ideas, new ways of life, new mindsets.
We are here for such a time as this. I am exactly where I am because God has me here. He has you there. COVID certainly didn’t surprise Him, and He isn’t shocked that you are living through it. He planned it that way.
This thing will pass, and we will all remember it. I hope we don’t miss the fact that if God wanted us in some other time, some other place, that is exactly where we would be.
And back to the drive. No, we didn’t go, but you know what we did do? We sat as the rain poured, and my children got schooled ever so briefly on the soothing melody of Creedence Clearwater Revival’s “Have you ever seen the rain?”. My toddler giggling on my hip while she was danced around the kitchen. “Do it again.” Over and over as her head was dipped in a move that only a toddler can tolerate without vomiting.
And the sound of that old song brought a flood of so many things. The oppressive, somehow comforting, heat of a summer night in the south. Alive, ready to spark. The laugh of friends. The stories of grandparents spending days in the fields of white cotton. The plays performed in the backyard with cousins, fireflies beginning to make their presence known. The deep comfort of your roots.
And there it is, again. The purpose of it all. The acknowledgment that God had a plan all along. So, day-whatever-you-are of quarantine, thanks for finding me in this place. Thank you for those little dancing minions you have locked me up with for the unforeseeable future. I wouldn’t have it any other way.