Grace and Isolation

Since April I’ve been walking around my street every Sunday evening and praying over it.  My dog, Bruce, accompanies me and he’s even learned to expect it.  I put the kids down, say goodnight to my husband, shut our door, turn, and Bruce is standing by the front door.  Staring at me. 

I’ve come to love this tradition.  It’s given me a deeper love for my little street community than I’ve ever had.  I’m invested in them, even if they don’t have any idea who I am.  But the longer this quarantine has gone on, the less of that there is for all of us.  Even if I’m just known as the mom of the three boys, I’ll take it.

…if I’m being honest, I’m pretty sure her exact words were “the three loud boys”.  Again, I’ll take it. 

The prayers have shifted at times.  As I’ve come to know my neighbors I’ve been able to pray more specifically.  I’ve felt the Spirit present and been pulled into praying long and hard for a certain house.  I’ve felt nothing but peace and walked with incredibly simple prayers in the stillness of my street.  And I’ve rushed because it’s cold and raining and I’m cold and the dog is losing his mind because he’s getting rained on and sorry Lord, protect us all in Jesus name amen! 

I’ve even missed a couple of times.

 Once I just forgot, completely.

 I made it up the next day. 

Once we were doing a family activity.

Again I made it up the next day.    

Once we were out of town. 

And I made it up when we got back in. 

But last night?  I missed it again.  And I can’t make it up today.

I’m in quarantined isolation in my house.  I tested positive for COVID last Monday and have been sequestered to our Guest Room.  Today is the best I’ve felt yet.  I still have very little energy (very very little energy.  Like a phone conversation wears me out) but am coughing less and my body has stopped hurting. 

I don’t know how I could’ve gotten it.  We’ve been very careful.  Maybe I got lax?  Maybe I’m just in the small percent?  Who knows?

We decided that I would be in the guest room because without that isolation my kids would have to be out of school an additional 10 days ON TOP of their 2 week quarantine.  I’m not mad at the school for it.  It makes perfect sense why they do that, it really does.  But that seemed really unfair to them.  So, into the guestroom I go. 

By a wonderfully serendipitous occurrence, I get to come out of isolation on Thanksgiving Day.  We’ll then quarantine together for another four days after that. 

I don’t know how much energy I’ll have by then.  But I can already tell that I won’t be up to full strength.  Mom will spend a lot of that day sitting.  That’s fine.  And I’ve already warned my husband that he’s going to have to do some prep work.

Let me just say, he’s killing it.  I told him I think he’s a better housewife than I am.  He reminded me that he hasn’t had to make any food yet. 

Our friends and family have blown me away.  Our neighbor found out and jumped into action.  She immediately said she was bringing us dinner the next night.  She’s run to the store for us and been the assignment courier to and from school as well as providing little sweet things. 

My brother and sister in law have made two store runs, to multiply places, to find our turkey that we weren’t planning on needing because we weren’t going to be in town.  He also bought me the next book in a series we both love.  (I’ve just started reading it.  It was too heavy for me to hold up till a couple of days ago.  Stupid COVID.)

Our small group made a signup sheet and has dinner taken care of till Thanksgiving.  EVERY dinner. 

Other friends from church heard I was down for the count and upon learning that dinners were taken care of, started taking care of lunches too AND providing frozen dinners in the case that we needed an extra one.  And we did.  (Or I should say Mr. Mom did)  One friend showed up with a massive amount of pizza, sugared pretzels, and enough cookies to even satisfy my four sugar monsters. 

Still others have sent us Door Dash gift certificates. 

We’ve had people give us games that the whole family can play.  We’ve had them drop off craft activities that their kids put together for my kids.  And we’ve had people pray.  So much prayer.    

And I’m still getting text messages saying, “What can I do?  What do you need?  Can I bring anything?”  We both are. 

I’ve been blown away.  And humbled.  And deluged in love, drowning in the gratitude of it all.   It’s overwhelming.  It really is.  This is what you want in a community.  I fully believe that this is what God had in mind.  There’s a crisis?  Don’t worry, we’ve got you.  If nothing else, we will storm Heaven Gate’s on your behalf. 

Be a part of a community that has your back.

But here’s the kicker…YOU HAVE TO LET THEM.

My friends and family, my community, WANT to help me.  To help my family.  That has been…oh man…that has been the most incredible TRUTH through this. 

My whole life, my WHOLE life, what the enemy has sown into my heart is that I am a nuisance.  That people put up with me but they don’t actually want me around.  That I’m useful, not a pleasure.  That my presence is accepted, not wanted.     

I have fought against this ever since I can remember. Before I even claimed my faith as my own. 

It started with believing and trusting that God doesn’t see me that way. 

Then it was believing and trusting that my family didn’t see me that way. 

Then it was believing and trusting that my husband didn’t see me that way.

And the current one I’ve been working on is believing and trusting that my friends and community don’t see me that way. 

Now, let’s be honest, some probably do.  Or maybe even just a little bit.  It’s a much larger pool of people that don’t HAVE to love me based on familial ties or a marriage. 

And THAT is what the enemy used to hammer into me. 

But this week?  This week my entire community told Satan to shut up.  And they did it because they wanted to.  Because they love me, love us.  It’s liberating and awe inspiring and all encompassing.  This is what it is to be in a community with other believers. 

But again, you have to ALLOW it to happen.  You have to allow others to take care of you.  You have to choose to trust that love.  Just like with God.  Just like with family. It’s a choice. You open the lines of communication and say, “Help!” And then step back with open hands, ready.

If you’re too tired to fight or too trapped to fight or too overwhelmed, they’ll grab their shield or their sword or their checkbook or their pots and pans and come stand in the gap.  They’ll do it with a smile on their face and love in their hearts.  And then they’ll get mad at you if it turns out you needed something and didn’t say anything.  Because you have to let them.  You have to accept that truth and tell the voice of doubt to SHUT UP. 

This is grace.  You take it.  You allow it to fill you.  You just have to take it. 

I missed praying over my street this week.  I missed walking around it, reciting the names I now know, and praying over them.  Their jobs.  Their children.  Their pets.  Their homes. 

But this week?  It was our turn.  And I have felt every prayer.  Every gift given in love.  Every beseeching on our behalf with every brought dish. 

Thank you to my community.  My family.  You have taken such incredible care of us.  Of my children, of my husband, of me.  Even our cat and dog!  I love you all!  Thank you for showering us with grace.  On Thanksgiving, when I get to fly this guest room prison, it will be a day that truly lives up to its name.  There have been others in my life that made that day all the more potent and I love, I LOVE, that you will be added to the memory of this one.   Thank you, thank you, thank you. 

*By the way, for those reading this saying “I would’ve come walked her street!”  I know you would’ve.  In a heartbeat.  God’s starting to teach me the lesson that I don’t have to DO and pray.  I don’t have to walk and pray, I can just be still and pray…but that’s a subject for another day.  Just rest assured, I know you would’ve come.  And I love you all the more for it.