Monday, April 13, 2020

Holy Monday: the both/and of our current existence in lock-down














Bridegroom Matins tonight, even streamed at home,
was really beautiful. 
***
I was so tired this afternoon!
Wow.
***
I wrote the following earlier on today...
***
Thankful list: 

1. This week is our (Orthodox Christian) Holy Week. 
I am SO thankful that I can watch both services
 at Holy Transfiguration Monastery and my beloved Ottawa parish, Christ the Saviour.
If I did not have these, I would really be struggling. 
Hearing the hymns, even though we can't be there in person, is a real comfort. 

2. Jesus Prayers for the world at 10 PM daily; 
when Christ the Saviour is streaming them live we tune in live
 if not, we go to an archived one and do the prayers that way 
(easier if we follow along and we know we have done the 15 minutes of these prayers!) 

3. Phone calls for family. 

4. Texts to family and friends. 

5. Zoom meetings with dear ones.

 6. That it is OK to miss and be sad that we can't have Holy week in Church. 

7. That mail service is still working and that I can send cards out. 

8. That I get groceries delivered tomorrow morning. 
And that I have a once/week delivery slot. This is a miracle for me! 

***

I also wrote down something I have been thinking of for a while,
it articulates some of my grief about our current situation, all of us needing to 
be apart from each other and church and really our lives as we knew them:

Do you know the book _The Homecoming_ by Cynthia Voigt? I've read it a few times. In it the 4 Tillerman children are abandoned by their Mother (father long gone) and they struggle with homelessness for much of the book, as they journey towards the where and who they hope will take them in. In it the oldest boy, James, every time he wakes up, still abandoned, still on an orphaned journey led by his older sister, says "It's still true" ... that they are alone, have little options for food and are still on this heartbreaking journey. I feel a bit like that with this pandemic; I know I am one of the super fortunate ones; married to a Husband who cares for me, with all the food and supplies needed; we are able to stay home; my Husband still has his job working from home and we don't have any immediate worries, as it were. But even going to bed, I know I have to wake up and it will still be true. What is true is that this virus has tilted our world upside down; my Husband can't go to work; I can't go to NYC; NYC is desolated; my family and I talk on the phone or online about grocery delivery to avoid stores; we can't go to church; we can't go to even ONE Holy Week Service; we have no idea when we will get to go to church again; it is still true; and the suffering that others are going through, hard to even think about. But, like the Tillerman children, they made it through; in the end, they had a Homecoming. But the journey was long and hard and for a long time, James woke up to the same hard lonely reality and said, 'it is still true'.

7 comments:

Elizabethd said...

I often feel the same when I wake up. Just for a moment when the sun shines, my spirits raise....and then that cloud of darkness appears. It's still true.
We must look beyond that and feel so fortunate to be alive....but it is difficult.

Granny Marigold said...

It's especially hard to have to stay home and not gather at times like Easter. I've set my heart on our family coming together for Mother's Day unless the Covid situation gets worse. Which it isn't at this time. Surely a month will make a big difference.

Becki said...

The thing I find the hardest is simply waiting. Not knowing when life will get back to some semblance of normal - and what will normal look like then? Even going to church together again will surely be odd the first time. I imagine it will feel like some kind of revival (which it will surely be), but will we be keeping some distance? While I'm looking forward to it, I'm also kind of dreading that first time back together. And all the things that people are going to want to do once the stay-at-home orders are lifted. I'm afraid it all might still have some pain of separation in it for many. That, or plunging forward into the unknown of how much virus there is still among us. I thought going into social distancing was a test of faith. I think I'm seeing that coming out of it may prove to be a bigger one.

elizabeth said...

Yes, it is difficult!💜

elizabeth said...

G-M I hope so

elizabeth said...

Becki, well articulated and I think you are right. Lord have mercy!

Juliana said...

Oh, I remember reading that book (several times, if memory serves). I had forgotten all about Voigt's work. Thanks for the reminder, and the beautiful passage.

So sorry the days have been especially tough lately.