These days are roller coasters. Everything makes me cry lately. My emotions are simmering just barely below the surface, and even a little jostle will put me over the edge. A photo of an Italian hospital. Tears. A text from a friend. Tears. A fun family meetup online? Also tears. I’ve seen such beautiful things and such ugly things from my couch this week… I’m not really sure what to do with it all except show up in all the ways that I can and keep loving my people.
Truth be told, I’m not really sure if it’s day nine. I do know that it’s Sunday. I know this because I got to go to church this morning. I mean, not face-to-face, shake-people’s-hands church. Virtual church. Which actually brought me to tears. I set up my computer in the living room. I figured out how to mirror the screen to my TV. I picked up the dirty laundry and threw it just beyond the frame of the camera. I rallied my family. Three of us were dressed; two were still in pajamas. Two of us had coffee, one drank tea. One sketched through the sermon. Another listened while he worked on a puzzle. I looked at my family, safe and warm and fed and healthy. I looked to the TV to see a whole community of MY people, mostly healthy, safe, and praying together. I didn’t realize how much I needed that until it happened. More tears. Tears of happiness and relief and worry all at once. What’s to come? None of us knows. But at least we can be assured that we will be loved through it.
After church, we loaded the kids in the car for a little excursion. I have teens and a preteen who typically like to groan and grumble at all my corny ideas. Family game night? Do we haaaave to? A hike in the woods? I don’t waaant to! Help me make brownies? How about I just help EAT the brownies? But something weird is happening to my children. Today, they just said, “Okay” and got in the car.
Something similar happened last night when I ‘made’ everyone play Pictionary. We finished the game, and at the moment when one kid would normally say, “Can we be DONE now?” there was still a little bit of banter happening. I tested the waters with, “How about just one more?” I expected groaning. I expected eye rolling. But what I got was enthusiasm. They wanted to keep playing. I didn’t understand what was happening, but I didn’t want to jinx it, either. We played four more rounds. It was beautiful.
But anyway, I digress. Jack and I knew the mission this afternoon. We had discussed it at length. Knowing that I’ll be home for the next few weeks, I plan to work on a decorating project. There will be spackling and painting and rearranging… and as part of the plan we found a great piece of used furniture on Craigslist. We had arranged to go pick it up. But we’ve been really strict with our kids about social distancing and hand-washing and not spending time with people who aren’t family. The kids haven’t liked these rules. As a matter of fact, yesterday, I had to tell my 17 year old that she couldn’t go to her best friend’s house to provide comfort following the recent death of her grandmother. I tried to be compassionate but clear. It was still really hard. I don’t think our teenagers really grasp what is happening out there in the world. To be fair, I’m not sure I comprehend it. But these kids need our help to make good choices in a time when very little feels safe.
And as part of that lesson, Jack and I wanted them to come with us on this little trip. We all loaded into the truck. There was good-natured argument in the back, of the ‘STOP-TOUCHING-ME’ variety. That happened right before Bea rested her head on Lee’s shoulder, so I didn’t take it too seriously. They joked and teased each other and argued about the radio. It all just felt, well, normal.
Until… we went to the ATM, where they watched my husband snap on latex work gloves to operate the machine and handle the cash. We went to the drive- through, where they saw the workers sanitizing their cash register and countertops. We drove past the mall and the arcade and a dozen restaurants and salons with empty parking lots. When we finally got to our destination, they watched THAT guy snap on latex gloves to take our money. They saw the adults have a brief conversation; us in the driveway and the sellers 20 feet away on their porch. They heard the conversation, so they knew that the furniture had been disinfected just before we picked it up. On the way home, we talked about a few things we needed from the grocery store. We explained that we wouldn’t all go in; it wasn’t necessary and it wasn’t worth the risk. My 17 year old asked to come. My husband’s instinct was to say no, but I wanted her to. I think it was powerful for her to see the empty shelves and the newly erected plexi-glass screens installed to protect the cashiers. She watched a handful of stunned-looking people picking up bread and fruit and milk. She observed that nobody was going near anyone else. I think she was a little ‘shook,’ as the kids would say.
I don’t necessarily want her to be scared. I just want her to be safe. Right now, all of our kids need different things. Some kids need reassurance and someone to keep them safe and protect them from unnecessary fear. Some kids need solid information and comfort. But some of our kids, especially our teens, might need to be a little ‘shook.’ Because at that age, they are fearless. They’re supposed to be. That’s how God made them. So in times like these, they need us to help them to step out of their self-centered sense of immortality and into the real world. They need a healthy dose of fear to keep them grounded and safe and considerate.
Today, I think my kids got a beautiful balance. They participated in a worship service that assured them that they are loved and supported and part of something bigger. They got a little family fun and a little holy spirit and also a little reality check. They saw adults who modeled what it looks like to take care of your people in such a strange time.
Today, they were a little shook, and I like to think they’re better for it.