I’m driving alone, on my way home from town, early in the day. As I pass through the rock cutting tunnel on the narrow road that winds into our village, I plan today’s agenda. What do I need to do? Sort the washing? Walk the dogs? Make some coffee? Write a story?
Yesterday, Sunday, I tried to write a story called Pause. I was thinking: Sunday is our pause day. It’s the rest day in our week.
I opened my laptop and my fingers hit the keys. Words appeared, one after another, leading nowhere. I realised: Every day is a pause day. Normal life has been put on hold. What makes Sunday any different from the other days of the week? Online Mass? A special Sunday dinner?
Immediately, my mind jumped from my story to dinner. I wondered: “Can I arrange a dinner-out picnic for my husband Andy?”
Sophie was going to town, so I asked her to pick up a couple of gourmet takeaway meals from a favourite cafe. My daughter returned with two portions of chicken tikka curry and rice. I arranged the food on huge white plates. And then I called Andy: “Would you like to join me? We’re going out for dinner.”
“We are? Where are we going?”
“The front garden. Follow me!”
With the overflowing plates in my hands, I kicked open the front screen door and stepped out into the gorgeous autumn sunshine. Andy grinned when he saw the two rickety chairs and the wobbly wooden table that I’d arranged in a secluded spot behind a white flowering shrub. We gingerly took our seats: “Will these old chairs bear our weight?”
“Isn’t this wonderful?” I said. “Our own private restaurant.”
“Listen to the birds.“
“Can you hear the bees buzzing?”
“Look, a king parrot! He’s eating the camellia petals.”
My love and I had a perfect dinner-out picnic away from the problems of the world.
And later, I thought: “My story is going to be called Picnic not Pause. Sunday is a pause day, a day unlike the others of the week. But I want to write about hope. How there’s still beauty in the world, despite the pain, if we take the time to look. I’ll write my Picnic story tomorrow.”
Tomorrow is here. It’s today. And sadly, I can no longer hear the song birds singing in our trees or the buzzing bees. They’ve vanished, along with the pink camellia flowers, the king parrot, and our forks loaded with our gourmet picnic food. No huge grins. Just prickling tears.
Today, a dark grey cloud swirls around my head. The joy has gone. Life seems difficult. Overwhelming. All I can see is people sick and dying. Social isolation never-ending. Jesus in our empty ‘non-essential’ churches, waiting.
As I park in the shade of the gum tree, in front of our house, I think again about my story. Not Pause. Not Picnic. Today’s story needs a single word:
Pray.
Photo by Sandy Millar on Unsplash
What a beautiful way to spend Sunday. Yesterday was hard for us, too, as we had to try to remember what day it was and watch the Mass online, which as you know, is just not the same. Good, but not the same. This is the 6th week for us in Iowa of staying at home. Thankfully, we have property, not just a small apartment like so many people are faced with during this time, and we with our children are able to go outside and enjoy the birds and bees and flowers as you described. We have rediscovered long since set aside projects to work on inside as well. But, there is sadness, and I struggle with the fact that so many we know are not reaching out to family and friends. They are not returning phone calls or emails. They are less busy, yet they do not want to try to connect in small ways, because they are faced with not connecting in big ways. Our 3 oldest, in their teens and preteens, have some pen pals that write more often, so that is a positive. Thank you for your post today! I, too, will pray my way through today and try to remember what day it is.
Staci,
Yes, it’s hard to remember which day of the week it is. That’s a bit worrying, isn’t it? I agree: online Mass is good but not the same. Last Sunday, we prayed as a family, taking turns to do the readings. I found a suitable meditation. And we sang a couple of Easter hymns. The singing really brought Easter into our home. Usually, we’re very involved with the music at our church. So singing together was wonderful!
Like you, I’m grateful we’re not living in an apartment. It does help to be able to spend time outside. We’ve also got the bush only a few steps down the road. We’re very fortunate.
I’m sorry you are not receiving the phone calls and emails that would make a difference to you and your family. This isolating situation must be especially difficult for older kids and teenagers who are used to seeing friends.
Thank you so much for stopping by. It’s good to chat and share our feelings. I’m praying for you and your family!
What a Godsend your post is. As I am going to bed tonight I feel the same way, grey, difficult, joyless and overwhelmed. I didn’t feel this way a couple of days ago and it has really hit me now. And I am praying too. For trust during the doubt. I guess this is a battle against principalities and powers.
God bless you. He has given you a gift of sharing with words and what a blessing to me that you use that gift so freely.
I pray for you from my own place of similar difficulty.
Ange,
I’m so sorry you’re feeling overwhelmed too. We can feel so alone, but we’re not, are we? It helps to share our feelings and difficulties with friends who understand.
Oh yes, this is a battle that extends beyond a virus. Ange, I’m praying for your family. Thank you for praying for us. We’ll help each other through this.
Thank you for your kind words. May God bless you too!
Thanks Sue 🙂 Fortunately the grey drearies have passed by. It’s amazing how we can be up one day and the next we wonder how on earth we could have been so positive and when we pass through that we again wonder how we could have suddenly been in such a dark place. It’s very strange. Maybe it’s just the Good Lord helping us to keep our eyes on Him.
Yes, a cuppa one day would be lovely! And if not in this life, then surely in the next! I’ll bet the bikkies and cake there are amazing!
Ange,
Oh yes, our moods can go up and down very quickly. I hope you’re doing okay. God bless!