Seven weeks ago when “shelter in place” was merely a whisper, my family was driving back from Colorado. We had just spent a magical five days in the snowy mountains, where my son and his brand new bride shared their vows under the aspens and time stood still for a brief moment, shielding us against the uncertainty brewing in the outside world. 

On the road trip back home, we stopped for the night at a small, less-than-luxury motel in Clayton, New Mexico. The place smelled strongly of bleach and was practically deserted. The breakfast bar had been closed off with caution tape to prevent the potential spread of COVID germs, a night and day difference from the homey comforts of the mountain Airbnb we had just left. A storm was on the horizon that night, the perfect backdrop for the ominous feeling we couldn’t quite shake. 

During seasons of unpredictability, the natural tendency can be to retreat into anxiety and dread, as if imagining the worst might prevent it or at least soften the blow if our fears become reality.

Over takeout chicken fried steak in Matt and Alyssa’s motel room (after obsessively wiping everything down with sanitizer wipes), we caught up on the news and learned of the likelihood of our home county issuing a stay-home order and wondered how our world was about to change. It all felt so surreal.

That night I journaled about the eeriness and the unknowns of it all. And I thought about how emotionally affected we are by our surroundings. In the Colorado sunshine and the cozy log home in the snow-covered mountains we felt safe, happy, celebratory. In the lackluster motel room with gray skies and storms blowing in, our moods were much more subdued. 

So I determined if we were going to be sheltering in place for the foreseeable future, I wanted to make sure our sheltering place was conducive to feelings of safety, pleasure, joy and creativity. No major renovation projects or costly overhauls. Just some simple changes to add some pops of color and to inspire a sense of hope in uncertain times. As it turns out, these have been our happy places throughout the quarantine.

Meanwhile Alyssa and Matt have taken on some creative projects of their own. Toby and Amber have been working zealously in their gardens and flower beds and right here in this space we share where our backyards intersect, we’ve rediscovered a slower pace and a simplicity reminiscent of days long gone and oh so refreshing. 

During seasons of unpredictability, the natural tendency can be to retreat into anxiety and dread, as if imagining the worst might prevent it or at least soften the blow if our fears become reality. But the opposite is true. As Brene’ Brown says in The Gifts of Imperfection:

“We think not being grateful and not feeling joy will make it hurt less. We think if we can beat vulnerability to the punch by imaging loss, we’ll suffer less. We’re wrong. There is one guarantee: If we’re not practicing gratitude and allowing ourselves to know joy, we are missing out on the two things that will actually sustain us during the inevitable hard times.”

We don’t always get to choose. These days there’s a lot over which we have no control. And that’s ok. There are still so many things we can choose. We can choose to cultivate a life of gratitude and joy, to create beauty, to celebrate the small moments, to live by faith rather than fear.  We can thank the good Lord for every day of life and breath and allow these days to shape us into people who look more like Him.

Stay well, friends! May the peace of Christ dwell in you richly.