The word “acceptance” holds many things within its ten letters. In fact, you may have thought in reading my earlier post that I was giving up. Perhaps it sounded as if I was no longer going to fight a battle with two chronic health issues. That wasn’t my intention when I said I was choosing to accept my lot and move on. Continue reading
Sameness is an awkward word, isn’t it? But in these pandemic days, it’s the best suited to circumstances in our home.
A few mornings ago I lay awake listening to the morning sounds. Inside there was nothing happening. The cats weren’t even hassling us for morning treats. Outside I could hear rain falling and occasional birdsong. Continue reading
Yes, hope remains. Despite fires and smoke, extremely hazardous air quality, several days of evacuation orders: hope remains.
All the above add stress to the already stressful pandemic. Yet, hope remains.
One bit of good news, the Portland protests and riots took a break during the smoke and poor air quality. One less level of stress. Hope remains.
As we sat in our home, we talked a lot about preparedness when threatened by a natural disaster. What one thing would you take? It’s hard to say. You might not have time to remember what that thing is and then pick it up and go. But we did start a list of what we’d need to take with us. Continue reading
I may be older now than the little one pictured above, but I was once that young. Despite the differences in our ages, she and I are both learning. Hopefully, she is still learning about the wonders of the outdoors. The things I’m learning I hope she never has the chance of learning.
This last weekend I attended a writing workshop on the literary essay. It was time well spent. Writing prompts were available in huge numbers, and the words “pandemic” and “quarantine” came up more than once.
One more event via Zoom. The word “together” was used in opening statements from the facilitator. One participant spoke up to say that showing up on each other’s computer screens did not constitute “together.” I have to agree with her. At coffee and lunch breaks, we could not interact and get to know each other. Continue reading
Here’s what I’m grateful for this past week:
- Shelter and food to eat plus clean water to drink.
- Being stranded in the middle of Meyer Woods with the man God blessed my life with almost 39 years ago.
- Health and welfare of our three children and their families.
- A long drive in the countryside to see what Spring is up to, and she’s up to a lot!
- Frontline workers in Portland, OR, who show up every day putting their lives at risk to care for others.
- A Facebook group providing a place to seek help and receive it in these times. The group name is Pandemic Partners-SE Portland.
- Neighbors who check on us; a couple next door and another couple behind us.
- A phone call from Rivers East Village checking in to see that we’re doing OK. (Also see Village to Village Network.)
- Reaching out to others in our community to check on their needs.
- Continuing recovery of a dear friend after a serious skiing accident two weeks ago.
Quarantining is like being cocooned. We are waiting mostly in the dark,
and we don’t know what form we will take when we emerge.
But I imagine it will be beautiful beyond our imagining.
Take these words with you and while cocooning, think on those things for which you are grateful.
I did not intend to use the COVID-19 label in my post title, because you have heard enough about the virus without my adding it to headlines. Yet this was the catchiest title I could come up with today.
One item Bob and I have on our daily calendar is our time for morning devotional and prayers. In recent days, we’ve been following Henri Nouwen. The daily meditation is waiting in our inbox before we get up and out of bed. It’s been a good day starter for us.
Yesterday’s meditation seemed chosen specifically for this time of crisis for all of us. As we read it, I thought of all the things that are happening around us. What could we possibly find joy in right now? My recovery, the birth of our new great-granddaughter Aurora, a friend who suffered a traumatic skiing accident a week ago and is recovering, and the joy of being together in this time of stress and tension. It made us more aware of what joy really is. I thought perhaps it might help someone else if I shared it here:
Learn the discipline of being surprised not by suffering but by joy. As we grow old . . . there is suffering ahead of us, immense suffering, a suffering that will continue to tempt us to think that we have chosen the wrong road. . . . But don’t be surprised by pain. Be surprised by joy, be surprised by the little flower that shows its beauty in the midst of a barren desert, and be surprised by the immense healing power that keeps bursting forth like springs of fresh water from the depth of our pain.