So last week was about 756 days long, right?!
Turns out were collectively trying to figure out a new way of functioning, and its hard. Like SO hard!
This weekend I was thinking about what the heck our kids will say about this time in their lives. What will they remember?
I suppose it depends on their age, but 10 or 20 years from now, what will they remember and recount about this global pandemic? Will they remember the things we as parents will? Will they remember all the worry and the scrambling to get prepared? All the panic and chaos that we currently feel?
As I played my 30th round of “check out” (read: grocery store) this weekend it dawned on me…
They will not remember many of the things that I will remember. They will only remember that we were together.
It was a shift I needed.
In a time where I feel so out of control about what’s happening in the world around me, where I feel so many emotions and learn new information from hour to hour (or minute to minute), I had a shift.
I realized that I can only control what’s happening in my own home, and for a control freak, that’s a HUGE shift! I can control what memories are being made, how they feel and what messages about faith and life they’re learning inside our home in these weeks.
I also had a realization that while this is crazy, and scary and life altering, its also a gift.
And speaking of gift… I also decided that I’m going to document these weird and wild weeks in photographs and make myself a chatbook, so that when I remember this time, I remember not only the chaos and uncertainty, but I’ll visually remember the sweet moments, the hilarious moments and everything in between.
I hope I only get one “shelter in place” mandate in my life, and I want to remember it as God remembers.
It won’t be perfect, (trust me, its totally not been perfect already) and it won’t be without messiness, but it will be filled with grace and forgiveness from God.
It will be filled with laughter and second, or even eleventh tries, hard work and even some terrible “we need a do over” days. But in all the ups and downs, it will be filled with the promise that we are not alone. The promise that God is with us, and for us.
God is near, my friends, and while we humans must keep distance, God does not. God stays near.