But Even If He Doesn’t
April 2, 2020
In the midst of this pandemic we have been working hard in our home to cultivate beauty. Yes, physically, but more importantly, internally. The kind of beauty that sinks into ones soul and fills them with joy. And though fear is lurking just around every corner, it is kept at bay.
Staying at home seems hardly a sacrifice. It feels too easy and somewhat cowardice. There are people on the front-lines giving their lives for others. People who are quite literally the hands and feet of Christ and have been charged with a very special and difficult duty. I have seen others at home sewing masks, FaceTiming grandparents, painting pictures, lighting candles, and praying endlessly. In these small ways, we are coming together. I have never seen such unity before. It brings a warm, joyful feeling to know such brave people, who in ways both big and small are fighting the good fight.
In our attempt to cultivate beauty in our home we have been focusing on a rhythm of life. Not a schedule, or even a routine, but just the day to day rhythm of prayer, rest, work, and play. The security of such a rhythm has been a breath of fresh air. I am hesitant to use the word security in fear you may believe that because of this rhythm we think we are invincible to the happenings in the world. Of course we are not. But the security of this rhythm comes from being rooted in Christ. Our day dances around the glory of God in ways that are forgotten if they are not purposefully cultivated.
Having some sort of rhythm provides the feeling of purpose. Somehow, someway, from the inner workings of our home we are joining with others around the world in this fight.
I don’t feel I can do much, so I’m clinging to Mother Teresa’s words, “if you want to change the world, go home and love your family.” This has sparked an earnest desire to create the good, true, and beautiful within the four walls of my home, and to trust it will be a light for others as well.
Our rhythm is full of tantrums, messes, and the like. There is nothing perfect or special happening within these four walls. We aim to take a walk or play outside each day, to read good books and talk about being brave, to listen to music and dance our hearts out, and to say small prayers sporadically. We have found delight in talking about the trees, and wind, and rain. In watching the sun shine and then disappear behind clouds of gray. We love the blooming daffodils that have filled our neighborhood and the chalk-covered sidewalks that people have decorated with encouragement. There is still hope and beauty.
I will be honest that I feel it is a matter of time before we get the virus. My husbands work is deemed necessary and so he still goes in each day. There is a sense of gratitude and fear. In this mess of emotion, all I can do is offer it up. My heart is heavy for those on the front-line, those already infected and their families, those who have lost their jobs and most especially those who are lonely. And my heart aches in a very special way for all the families expecting a new little blessing in the midst of such uncertainty.
I have not much control. But I can follow the stirring of my heart – to pray earnestly, to seek beauty, to be brave, and to trust. He can and will come through, but even if he doesn’t . . .
Have you found a rhythm that blesses your days? What are you doing to keep the faith and joy alive? I’m always looking for inspiration ✨