Tag Archives: Life

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We're being "pretty safe" - masks everywhere, no crowded places, social distancing, just a little socializing. But writing about COVID-19 and me...the emotions are all over the place

The Explosion of COVID-19

We went to church on November 1, and have not been back since. We were planning on having some vulnerable people for Thanksgiving dinner, so we planned on being as safe as possible for their sake. Our church is doing church God's way - and nobody is turned away so there's little opportunity for "social distancing". Masks are a matter of conscience so there's no guarantee that those who have the virus are not spreading it.

COVID has exploded in our county. Since we only had 35(ish) cases in our county since the beginning, we didn't feel as though we were risking others to go. I checked our county's counter on Thanksgiving Day and there were 346 active cases...and 30 in our church...yikes! In the space of three weeks, we were over 900. At that point we felt really okay with our choice to not be in church.

The Current Situation

New cases in our county are starting to decrease. One next door neighbor (a couple) both had it. A local nurse lives on the other side and said that it's as bad as they say (our local hospital only has 32 beds)

The Emotional Impact of COVID

I miss going to church. I miss hearing the voices of the saints gathered around me in worship. Live-streaming is not the same and I can't listen to the music or I just sit there and cry.

The wise thing to do is to stay home for now. My kids are coming into town on Christmas Day and will be in three different airports. I don't want to add an extra layer of exposure.

Processing the "why"

My dad told my husband, about five weeks before he died, "take care of my little girl." Part of doing that is keeping me safe, even when it's hard to be safe. Honoring my husband and my father means being content and helping Phil keep me safe.

Our pastor put out a video-devotional and asked, "do we need to be afraid of COVID? No."

The first reason is that for a Christian, there are worse things that dying. True, but I have a hard time making a life or death decision for somebody else, especially those family members who are not believers.

The second reason is that COVID really has a pretty low death rate. True, but the long-term affects can be pretty bad. We saw a man at the gas station who could barely walk...he said that it was neurological side-effects of COVID. So even with a low death rate, *NOT* dying could leave me being a burden on my husband, and more.

The third reason is that we should trust God. But...there is a line between trusting God and testing God and I want to be on the right side of that line. Asking God to protect us when we doing what we can to protect ourselves is one thing. Asking God to change the nature of how a virus works so that we don't have to do what we can to keep ourselves safe...that's another thing.

**NOTE: the line where people trust God or test God will be in different places for different people. Maybe it's a lack of trust that has me feeling that I'm testing Him. I have no judgement whatever (and perhaps feel a bit envious) toward those who are attending church services.

So...For Now

We're planning on socializing with families that we know are doing their best to be as safe as they can be, all things considered.

We're going to enjoy time with my kids, without going to crowded places.

After the holidays, we're going to stay away from church for the 10 days and revisit how we feel at that point, taking into consideration what the county numbers are.

At this point, I think that we're honoring God with out bodies by keeping our loved ones as safe as we can.

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They got a brand new dance (come on), you gotta move your muscle
Brand new dance, it's called the Cupid Shuffle
It don't matter if you're young or you're old (here we go)
We gone show you how it go (hey hey)
(...)
to the left, to the left, to the left....

("Cupid Shuffle" - Cupid)

politics, theology, life...many things can be aligned into liberal/conservative categories.

In my experienced, every single time (seriously, no exceptions) that I've encountered a person who says that they're neither liberal or conservative, they think like a liberal, vote like a liberal, talk like a liberal.

When I run across a person who says that in some ways they lean liberal, in other ways, conservative, they can point to some of those ways.

So...

1) I've found that "evasion = liberal"

I've also found that only the liberal cause is helped by changing the center.

Pick a topic...gay marriage. The political gay lobby pick a point somewhat left of center and begin calling it "center." As the leftist continue their march to the left, that "left of center" point seems more reasonable, and it becomes accepted as "center."

At which point the leftists move further left, and those on the right, **WHO HAVE NOT CHANGED THEIR POSITIONS** are now labeled "far rights" and "fringe."

"Conservatives" now become "center," in order to be avoid being viewed as "extremists" but that "center" is where the left used to be.

I've been called some pretty foul names. Why? Because I dare to suggest that people of faith should not be forced by law to participate in ceremonies that violate their conscience.

If one thinks that a Christian should be able to opt out of catering a gay commitment ceremony, they are now "bigots"

So...

2) Leftists don't want the right to compromise. They want capitulation.

I recently read a post about "New Wave Complementarianism" - looks like "old wave egalitarianism" to me. The author had made a move (and a good one, from one other of her posts I read) and adjusted her stand accordingly. But adjusting your position should mean adjusting the description you take. For instance, if a conservative begins leaning to the liberal, they should call themselves "liberal" and not try to call themselves "new wave conservative". Okay, this is a rehash of #2, only from an ethical viewpoint.

So...

3) if you call yourself "new" anything, you're probably not. Check the "old" definitions and see which one fits.

I'm not going to play "Leftist says" and move "to the left, to the left"

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From the beginning...

I was born into a Christian family. My earliest years were in a very small house close to my mother's parents. I remember very little, but remember the wallpaper in my bedroom (?)

My parents were married in a church down the street from my grandparent's house and that is the house I remember best.

When I was a year and a half old, my Grandpa Brown (my dad's dad) talked my parents into moving to the farm - where I grew up. We went to a church that my dad and grandpa helped to build. Our house was built on part of the family farm only a few hundred feet from my grandparent's house. I remember the farm animals, cats galore and always a dog or two.

I remember the best of my grandparents - Grandpa was quiet and content, Grandma was sad, but always took care of us. We were in a rural farming community in the Thumb of Michigan, which meant that we frequently lost power in the winter and we were the last to get plowed out. When the power went out, sometime we went to stay with Grandma and Grandpa (the gravity feed furnace didn't need electricity so they stayed warm) and I had my favorite place to sleep on the floor Eventually we figured out that "my spot" was right on top of the gravity feed furnace. Grandma had a chair next to the dining room table...we figured out that it was right next to the chimney, so she had the warmest chair in the house.

Upstairs at my grandma's house was "the porch" - built on a roof, unheated...there was even a space between the floor and the wall where you could see outdoors. But there were a couple of beds for summer sleepover and the walls were lined with bookcases. Lots of books, so I grew up reading. There were lost of cousins around, but no girls my age. My best friends were the Bobsey twins, Trixie Beldon, and Anne of Greene Gables.

My church memories are vague. I have glimpses of VBS, little memories of Wednesday evening prayer meetings. As a child, my dad prayed for me before an oral surgery to take a tumor off of my gum line. When we went to the hospital the next day, the tumor was gone. I sat next to him while he prayed for my mom when she was in the hospital.

My dad was a deacon in that small church for most of my years at home and it never grew beyond under 100 in number (not surprising in a very small town.) The pastors came and went, another came and went.

I never knew a time when my life wasn't grounded in family Christianity, but I don't think the faith was MINE until later on. My parents gave me the foundation, but it had to be the Holy Spirit who built it.

My pastor said this morning..."A church believes what it sings." And I grew up on "Amazing Grace,"

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18 years ago, my daughter, Amanda, had a minor ear surgery. We brought her home and I had o rune out to get a prescription filled.

Our cat Blackie had gone missing and since the animal shelter was across the street com the pharmacy, I stopped there while I was waiting on the Rx. They were so short staffed that they weren't keeping animals that owners were dropping off, just putting them to sleep.

There was a couple there with a kid size shoe box, with a tiny tail hanging out. She was crying, but was so allergic...I said, "oh, I'll just take him."

The woman at the counter said, you can't do that IN HERE."

So we went outside and I took this tiny kitten home and he became Amanda's kitty...and we named him after her ear doctor...Henry.

Amanda doesn't remember a time without Henry. He held vigil with me when Amanda's daddy was dying, sitting in his lap for hours at a time.

He spent a little time with me here in the apartment, and was a great balcony cat.

Henry died today. He's had diabetes for 5 years, had eye problems, but Amanda, and her boyfriend, Mike, took good care of him.

Mike was crying, Amanda can't even talk, Tom's a mess and so am I.

Henry will be missed.

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This is so pretty I wanted to post it.

"Love is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake and then subsides. And when it subsides you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion. That is just being "in love" which any of us can convince ourselves we are. Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident. Your mother and I had it, we had roots that grew towards each other underground, and when all the pretty blossom had fallen from our branches we found that we were one tree and not two."

- Captain Corelli's Mandolin

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I ran across my elementary school report cards. Memories, good and bad.

Ellen talks too much, Ellen doesn't talk enough.

Ellen should read more, Ellen needs to leave her books at home.

Ellen needs to participate in discussions, Ellen needs to leave the people around her alone.

Ellen needs to do her homework, Ellen needs to be more organized.

Somehow, shy little Ellen morphed into MzEllen

Few people who know me now would recognize the shy, quiet (and very skinny) girl who was too shy to talk, to participate in games, to have a discussion.

1st grade...I got a new best friend. On her first day, she told me that she was a "n-word" and that's why I told my dad. He spanked me and told me not to ever use that word. Then he asked me who told me that's what she was...well, *she* did. She happened to be Native American, but that's not what she told me.

In 2nd grade, every student took an IQ test. Mine was high enough that they made me take it again...and then once more. Nobody "got" that the shy little thing that wouldn't talk...could be that smart.

3rd grade...ah...this is where my organization (or lack thereof) got me into trouble. It's also the age where kids start seeing "differences" and separating into cliques. And I didn't have a clique. If I was shy before, it got way worse here.

Anyway, those old, yellow report cards represent where I was, WHAT I was...where I am now.

Those social cues I just didn't get, the ability to stay in the "inner circle" - wanting to at least be able to fit with "that crowd," if only for a little while. Maybe not even fit...just be worthy of having them say "hi;" just a little word.

Those report cards, with the hand-written teacher notes on the backs. What made me change? Maybe I'm still shy, I'm just determined to not let it beat me?

I don't know. What I know is that I'm not one of the "farm kids" anymore. I don't have to take an IQ test 3 times.

I still cry when I remember that

I remember the awkward