The Lockdown Continues – part 1

In 1993, I was living in South Carolina when my family in Chattanooga got hammered by a freak snowstorm. Over 20″ fell and paralyzed the streets. The only exit from Mom and Dad’s home was up a long, ice-covered hill, so they (along with my brother, Preston) were stuck. They told terrifying stories about how they survived five straight days in near-total isolation, unable to leave the house.

I used to think that was a long time.

I am now in week #4 of my COVID-19 lockdown. The more optimistic talking heads tell me to expect another 2 weeks. The pessimistic ones just saw their shadows and are predicting 6 more weeks of shelter.

I am blessed to have a job four days per week, which is more than millions of Americans. I hold onto every ritual possible from the good-old-days when I could go into the office. Each morning, I get up, make coffee, read my Bible, have breakfast, shower and tell Kim goodbye before making my 12-second commute to the converted guest room that is now my office. At five o’clock, I walk to the front door, open it then shut it loudly and say “Kim, I’m home!” As far as work is concerned, I am holding onto the illusion that life is continuing as normal.

Non-working hours are another story. Kim and I binge-watched 40 episodes of Parks and Recreation on Netflix before I had to cut back because I started looking forward to them coming over to visit and hated it when they had to leave so soon. During especially slow times each day, I call the kids to ask them the world’s stupidest question, “Whatcha doin’?” Our highlight of the evening is sitting on the front patio hoping someone will walk their dog past our house. For distraction, I’ve started digging out a large stump in the back yard.

By the time this lockdown is over, I may never be the same.

On the flip side of the coin, I don’t know if I want to go back. This disaster has forced me to face realities that were previously easy to ignore. If going back means erasing my footsteps, then count me out.

Although I am gradually settling down and accepting my situation, I have been frustrated during The Great Isolation. I like my life the way I had it and have been agitated that somebody moved my cheese. I want to sit in my favorite booth at Chili’s on Friday nights. Small-group on the small screen is a lousy substitute for the real deal. People who play frisbee on the beach while I cut roots for fun are goobers. I hate wearing face masks that make my glasses steam up. There’s a long list of things that get on my nerves.

I had not previously noticed how frequently I get out of the house to interact with people, but I miss those chances now that they are gone. The office, church, and volunteer workdays are the most obvious, but even chatting with the checkout people at Walmart or my waiter at dinner. I miss the people and wish they were back. The more items the governor and local judges rule out, the more I feel that I have lost control.

I know that God is in control, but I’m not happy with it. I have twisted and squirmed and tried to escape like our dog, Tarzan, when we cut his toenails. No matter how hard I try to relax and be satisfied, I keep wishing for things to change.

One of the most quoted verses in the New Testament is Phillipians 4:13. It is often used in a different context from what Paul was saying, and it is better thought of as The Official Verse of Shelter-In-Place.

“I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.”

This famous line is normally used to claim victory before meeting a challenge head-on. That is a great application, it’s just not what Paul was talking about when he said it first.

Paul wrote this verse while he was social distancing. He was in the ultimate lockdown – prison. His friends at the church in Phillippi missed him and were worried about him. Instead of a pandemic, a great distance prevented them from seeing him, but the effect was the same. Their high-energy friend who never seemed to stop was suddenly shut down. Out of compassion for a friend suffering from loneliness, they sent him gifts and a message of encouragement.

Paul wrote his thank-you note to the Phillippians for their generosity and their concern for him. But he told them not to worry about him, that he would be all right.

I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” (Phi 4:12)

Paul never wanted to be on lockdown and he didn’t pretend that it was ideal. He missed seeing his friends, going out for great Italian food on a weeknight, and shopping for Birkenstocks at the mall.

Being isolated wasn’t his preference, but he told them not to worry because he was at peace. He was reassuring them “I can do this.” and reminded them that he was never alone because his Savior was with him, comforting and strengthening him even when he was otherwise completely alone.

Thirty years passed between Paul falling on the road to Damascus as a bright light surrounded him and when he woke up in prison and decided to write his friends a letter. Early on, I expect that he was just like me – impatient, frustrated, twisting to get away. But one day at a time, Jesus changed him. Gradually, his heart became content in every situation. As he approached the end of his life he could look up from his shelter-in-place and say “It’s OK. I got this. Jesus is with me.”

Unlike me when I tell people “God is in control, we are doing well.”, I believe that Paul was legitimately content in conditions much worse than mine. I hope to get that mindset too.

I hope the pandemic gives God the chance to soften my heart and teach me to slow down and to be happy with what I am given. One day at a time, I hope to discover Paul’s place of contentment.

Progress is slow, but it looks like I have lots of time.