The first two weeks were the hardest.
There I was at home. I’m free, so I thought; free to do whatever I wanted to do. No job responsibilities and I was still being paid, praise God. I just couldn’t go to work; I couldn’t sleep either. So many things I might do, jobs at home I’d put off, projects I wanted to try. This was going to be ok.
The reality of my first two weeks in isolation, compared to my insomniac’s dream, was somewhat different. I couldn’t stop and yet somehow I achieved nothing. My mind wouldn’t rest, my soul was sad and my knees, oh my knees, just ached every night. I was grouchy and impatient; my family suffered. Sleeping was erratic (an understatement) and now, nearly five years on, I’d probably have a better night even after a couple of Americanos at 9pm. And my friends know I like my coffee strong.
Two weeks in I crashed and was forced to give up, which was the best thing I could’ve done. Looking back, I think this was just as beneficial for my family as for me. Now we all knew where we stood. Back then the quarantine was prescribed by the doctor and brought on by the need for rest due to prolonged stress. I was exhausted, weary and spent.
If you’ve been transplanted from the office to work (or not) at home in the past two or three weeks you might see some parallels in our situations, but I do hope you’re sleeping. Nevertheless, even if you’re a seasoned keyboarder it’s likely you’re going to react somehow to the removal of routine and real life interactions with colleagues and friends. And coping – ironically for a time of isolation – with the lack of personal space, particularly if you’ve got a young family.
That summer I spent a lot of time learning about being over doing. But it is not easy learning to stop and rest. As part of that education I got to be very familiar with Psalm 91; I often recalled the first two verses many times during the day.
Those who live in the shelter of the Most High will find rest in the shadow of the Almighty.
This I declare about the Lord: He alone is my refuge, my place of safety; he is my God, and I trust him.
Psalm 91:1-2 (NLT)
Sometimes we all need a good talking to. The beautiful thing about these lines is that they reflect back and forth, as if speaking to each other. In verse 1 the soul, seeking rest, reminds the mind that it must choose to live where rest is found. Human reason may say otherwise, but the heart knows what true peace feels like. In verse 2 the mind and the will reply to the soul that, although emotions forcefully shout differently, the truth that Father God is the only sure place of safety continues to endure.
Verse 4 continues the theme of protection with the mother eagle shielding her youngster.
He will cover you with his feathers. He will shelter you with his wings. His faithful promises are your armour and protection.
Psalm 91:4
The baby bird is already in the safest place it can be – right there in the nest with its caring mother and simply being an eaglet. Nevertheless, the strong and powerful wings envelop the young offspring within an impenetrable shield which almost seems overkill given the ever-present power of the parent. Those promises are true and available at all times for all who choose to be Christ followers. For me and for you. But if I don’t know them and diligently apply them like a soothing balm what use are they to my peace of mind? I will never be encouraged nor strengthen my soul, my being.
So as a Christ follower what am I, who am I? What’s the core of my being? Where to start? Well, as we’re already in the book, Psalm 139 is a wonderful place to begin.
You saw me before I was born. Every day of my life was recorded in your book. Every moment was laid out before a single day had passed.
Psalm 139:16
Every day is already known, the great ones and the not so great; nothing is a surprise. For me those words bring security rather than a Big Brother constriction. The very next verses reveal the motivation for God’s knowledge of us.
How precious are your thoughts about me, O God. They cannot be numbered! I can’t even count them; they outnumber the grains of sand!
And when I wake up, you are still with me!
Psalm 139:17-18
He cares for us, he loves and doesn’t leave. Just like the mother eagle whilst the precious chick sleeps. We are his precious creation and so much more.
So if you’re struggling with the shock transition of self-isolation what you might need to gently hear at this point is this: When doing ceases only being remains. Where being is embraced then whatever is done, or not done, comes only from that surrender.
I don’t pretend to always live so that doing comes second but I have at least learnt to notice when I need a good talking to.
Next time we’ll explore some more about being.
And My House 