I've seen "The Lion King" probably more times than even its creators. When my niece, Evey, was about a year old and I was pregnant with Gracie, the two (errr, three?) of us sat on the couch with snacks, and watched it no less that 6 times a day. The antagonist, Scar, snarls from his stolen throne to his newly acquired pride upon the "accidental" death of his brother "... out of the ashes of this tragedy we shall rise to meet the dawning of a new era..." Interestingly, over the last few days, this line has lodged itself right into my brain and played itself on repeat.
Coronavirus. COVID-19. It's a thing. It's THE thing. I don't know if any of us HASn't been bombarded or inundated or overrun with posts, news articles, popups, memes, GIFs, jokes, reminders, alerts, emails, texts, warnings, and partridges in pear trees (wearing n95s I'm sure) regarding the very realness of the fuzzy-looking sickbug and its global impact. We're washing our hands (some folks for the first time, evidently); the media is pouring gas - it's cheaper, though, YAY!- on anything that sparks; rolls of toilet paper LOOK differently to us than they did even a week ago; travel has all but ceased entirely; words like "quarantine" and "isolation," and the phrase "social distance" are all-too common now; and moms like me, who have taught their kiddos at home for some time, are now seeing posts from newly-requisitioned homeschooling parents (which, at present, seems to be all caregivers in the universe) either singing praises or GIF'ing "when can I suspend my students, how do you teachers do this??!" humor. Enough of that... you all know what I'm talking about; you've seen it.
Back to the evil lion addressing the less-than-thrilled lionesses. Scar essentially said that what the pride was going through seemed abysmal, but that they would rise from the "ashes" and light would come (which, in the movie, he thought was him, but he was way wrong). The proverbial light at the end of the tunnel doesn't always shine like we think it should.
You may or may not know this: I am overly blessed to have a tribe of four sisters and some crazy rad in-laws, incredible parents, a gajillion nieces and nephews, aunts, uncles, cousins, kiddos, my first grand on the way, and a husband who pretty much always wears a halo. So this village... it's a creative bunch. We are all fairly crafty and thoughtful, excellent with words, and love each other beyond comprehension. My sisters Julia and Katie organized the most lovely of du jour activities for maximum participation and engagement, and crafted a "Question of the Day" email thread; today was day two, and so far, my mom has mentioned "silver lining" more than several times.
Some people say "silver lining." Some prefer to think that God creates "beauty from ashes." Bonham, when given lemons, always always always wants to make lemonade. Whichever idiom, scripture, proverb or "thing" peps you up or offers optimism in the face of something yucky... pick one... here's the beautiful silver lemonade I see in this pandemic:
We are all, whether we want to or not, being made to shift our focus. NOW. Not soon. YESTERDAY. The new objects of our attention will vary from person to person, family to family- of course- as we all have differing personalities and opinions and experiences and psyches, etc. The commonality, as I see it, though, and the LIGHT in all this, is that we are now forced (? that seems harsh...?) to stay home as much as possible, spend time with our families doing the things in super-close proximity to the people with whom we've been charged to love and do life with, and BREATHE for a minute. We've been given- in my opinion- a reset. The glimmer here is that we all get to- yes, I say GET TO- re-align ourselves and slow down for a second. In no way do I say that sickness and disease and not being able to visit loved ones in nursing homes is ALL good- this thing for sure has its share of suck, and I'm honestly not sure if recovery (financial, emotional, physical, etc) is possible for quite some time. I'm just saying that in the heinous, the gritty pain of it, and in the unbelievably uncertain, we are privileged to witness some of the greatest blessings ever bestowed upon anyone who's on this planet right now. We get to - as I've heard numerous times (thank you, Kristina and Steve) partner with the great Creator as He walks with us and shows us- opens our eyes and ears- to so much of the beauty we may have been ignoring in our busy. We are allowed to do what he's asked of us, biblically... has commanded of us, even... when He says "rest." For those of you who have ever owned anything that plugs in or has a screen, you can probably relate to the metaphor that "we're being turned off and turned on again." Reboot. Reset. Re-whatever'ed.
I'm a schedule/ list crazy-person. I love writing things down (believe THAT if you can, ha), checking them off, seeing progress, having visuals in front of me. Ergo, the plunge (some folks unwillingly... some, like me, in celebratory fashion) into this "stay home and do school and do life with your family" season has yielded the beginnings of lists, charts, calendars, schedules and google spreadsheets galore. This is my time to do things in ways that make ME feel productive. Worthy. Effective. A contributer. And that, my friends, has ironically rendered me almost paralyzed. I am more grateful than I've ever been - EVER- for the beauty in this mess, but somehow, even as I write this, I’m trying to balance gratitude and unworthy imperfection. Comparison to supermoms. Comparison to phenomenal bakers. Making lemonade, but knowing someone else makes it way more tasty, and wishing mine were like theirs. Recognizing the silver lining of this cloud, but noticing the grade of fabric in someone else’s is far superior and wishing mine had the same sheen. Drowning in ashes, suffocating, but finding the beauty in the pile, only to see someone else’s is a little prettier. My lists, charts, spreadsheets, etc. rest in tab-form at the top of my browser, waiting to be completed. Sighing under the weight of comparison.
Maybe this blog is more for me than I had originally planned. I wanted to provide a sliver of encouragement to the world somehow, but I’ve wound up praying and slogging (it’s been called “Chaucering” by a dear old friend of mine- a perfect term in my opinion) my way through the juxtapositioned mud and sparkle of this. And now I'm wondering what my point even is, and I know I need to close this out. I'm getting there.
I guess it's this... after a bajillion words (shocker, I know):
Let's just do what we can in all this. Those lemons? Make lemonade or popsicles or zest those suckers for icing, and share with a neighbor (leave on the porch if you need to). Take those ashes and make something beautiful- today, our beautiful is going to be potholders, email connections, and vegan cinnamon rolls. Look for the silver linings- everyone has their own fabric, and try not to get too hung up on whether or not someone's post on FB is shinier than yours. If lists help, use them. If schedules are important, check off those completed tasks. But in all those checkmarks and attempts at self-worthiness and good-mama'ing/ daddying, be present, and be ok with whatever it is you're doing- or not doing. There is another side to this whole thing, and we're all gonna emerge with the results of our choices, friends. We're gonna be ok.
"Out of the ashes of this tragedy, we shall rise to meet the dawning of a new era..."
God is moving.
For me, what He is doing in all of us is the new era.
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