Leaning In: Restarting Relationships (Part 1)

A voice whispered, “Lean in. Choose the brave thing. Be who I made you to be.”

I couldn’t possibly, could I?

It started with the Q word. I knew what the word meant in the dictionary sense, but I didn’t actually know anyone who’d experienced it. A mom of several children told me she would be keeping everyone home until the chicken pox made its way through the family, I remember that. But the idea of quarantine was just an idea. Out there. Somewhere. Something other people might endure.

And then there was the virus.

Shutting Down

Only essential businesses and workers could be active; everyone else needed to honor the stay home order. I wrestled with so many thoughts in the first days. Essential businesses and workers meant there were non-essential businesses and workers. That pierced—I’m non-essential. My church couldn’t hold in-person gatherings. My church is non-essential? Not to me! My husband’s food distribution business chugged along, trying to get food from one place to another. Thank you, God, that his business is essential! So many people don’t have that.

I thought it would be two weeks or a month. And then the reality of the long haul eventually settled in. Each day felt heavier. Friends felt more distant. Zoom calls competed to fill so many hours. My comfortable rhythms of life crumbled, and then I couldn’t find them anywhere.

New rhythms found their way in and settled. Six feet of social distance became overall distance. I began to loathe the slew of two-dimensional meetings that fought for time and attention without deeper connection. I tearfully longed for friends’ real nearness and 3-D presence, the ones I could quietly (or loudly) be authentically me. Fear of cleanliness fought to replace trust and godliness; for the first few weeks I spent more time wiping “dirty” groceries than I spent tending to my “dirty” soul.

Patterns Etched

Six feet. No contact. My color-coordinated bandana face covering hiding stress. Listening extra-hard to hear a muffled voice behind a mask. Hoping hard to catch a glimpse of a smile in someone’s eyes—anywhere. Online church service recordings, always torn between watching the busy chat or the message. Missing the “live factor” of life inside the church when the people gather. Forgetting the day of the week, the hour of the day, and any sense of the schedule I used to keep.

A couple weeks cut a little footpath in my life. Months created a crevasse. I fell into it, screaming all the way down. Rhythms always kept me sane, and then I realized I couldn’t keep them when stress levels were high. My world instantly became very small.

The Constant I Needed

A single constant threaded through my long, nondescript weeks: a very small circle of friends. If Zoom calls fought for attention, these calls trumped. If cars parked trunk-to-trunk for take-out in a lot, it was us. If “family group walks” needed to happen at the preserve to preserve sanity, we took them. They know who they are, and I am eternally grateful for the ones who pressed in when the whole world said “Stay away!” I’m thankful for the ladies who dared to use as many dimensions as they could to be in connection.

This friend fusion had deep connection before quarantine, and we fought to keep it, deepen it, and love each other well. Two of us worked long, crazy hours at home; two of us were nervous about our businesses being “closed” for such a long time. We shared the weight of that and all the other complications of the quarantine. We were blessed to have each other for encouragement and reminders to lean into our faith rooted in trust and the Bible.

It feels funny to say those were hard but simple days.

Thanks for reading, friend. This thought thread is my attempt to begin leaning in—to my authentic identity, my writing, and my relationships. I’ll be popping up with some related content here and at a site I’ve been invited to write for as a guest. Keep your eyes peeled!

In the meantime, how have YOU experienced relational distance the last few months? I’d love to hear if you’ve been struggling similarly or uniquely. I want to hear your heart, if you’re willing to share. What’s your story, friend?

I thought I’d let you know I had the honor of sharing at Becky Bereford’s site this week. She’s a good friend and a Hope*Writer, too. Take a peek at the continuation of this thought thread HERE. (Consider it Part 1.5 in the series.)