It’s been a long few weeks since last Saturday. I haven’t driven my van for 5 days. That never happens. Now that I’m thinking about it, I should probably go check that there is not a Gogurt or something rotting away inside of it.

The world has changed. In ways that would have seemed inconceivable just a few weeks ago. We are all working, learning, cooking, and living life… at home. School is closed. Bars and restaurants have been shut down. We aren’t supposed to gather in groups of more than 10, so, no church.

But, in a weird way, I’m kind of looking forward to it. Not right now. Right now we are all still adjusting. Adjusting to the realities of working from home with children underfoot. Adjusting to being a homeschool teacher with impossible Pinterest mom worthy examples constantly in our face through social media. Adjusting to being A short order cook, making three meals a day plus snacks for the entire family. Adjusting to the realities of having our roles change. adjusting to being scared every time the next round of news rolls out. 

But I’m looking forward to next week. When we all settle down. When this begins to feel a little bit more normal, a little bit more doable. In this overprogrammed world, we are never given the opportunity to just be together. No plans. No calendar. No rushing around. Ample time to work on puzzles, to research the way soap works with our kids, To remember what it’s like to be a family. Together. A unit.

In “normal life”, we get a week, maybe two of this opportunity a year. The rest of the time is spent going to work, going to school, going to church, going to extracurricular activities, whizzing here and there in an effort to keep up with our own hastily set expectations.

What if, instead of thinking of this time as terrifying, and unclear, and ill-defined (which it IS), we instead decide to see it as an invitation? An invitation to rest. An invitation to deeper relationships within our family, within our marriages. A time to be silly, a time to be creative, a time to just be ourselves.

What if we give up the pressure to bring our A-game to everything? What if we help our kids with school, but don’t post our “accomplishments” on social media? What if we do what is expected of us at work, but give up the expectations that our output and performance will be the exact same as it would have been on a normal workday? What if that even opens up opportunities to think more creatively about the jobs that we do, to come up with new ways of being, at home, and at work? What if we silence the voices that are constantly telling us to acquire, telling us we need just one more thing, and try to live life with what we have? (This does not apply to eggs. Somehow in my house, we always, always need eggs…)

Perhaps this Quarantine of Love is a gift. A Lenten Journey we wouldn’t have chosen ourselves, but one that has much to teach us, and much to give. I challenge you to join me in dropping your expectations of yourselves, and instead increasing your expectation of the way that God will show up to you in these next few weeks…