Alright, that's an exaggeration. But I am going to offer up a number of ways I've managed to avoid doing domestic chores during this crazy time. My reader, should he or she choose to accept the mission, is welcome to take up the slack.
I hate housework. Always have. I'm well aware that many who were home-bound during the COVID-19 quarantine spent bunches of time catching up on home duties. That makes sense, and bless their hearts. There's a part of me that feels I should have done likewise, as I, too, remained mostly at home for weeks on end due to the pandemic.
Don't get me wrong. I love tidy. My sons will tell you, I'll wake them up from a cozy sleep to come downstairs and fold the blanket they left strewn on the chair last night. OK, that may be a stretch, but you get the idea. But, to me, tidy is a way of life, while clean, on the other hand, may just be a way of death. I can't understand folks who find it burdensome to put a glass in the dishwasher or toss a gum wrapper into the trash, but neither can I relate to friends who pencil in spring cleaning on their calendars and - horror of horrors - actually accomplish the task.
I just couldn't wrap my head around the thought that this isolation was imposed on me for the sole purpose of making my floors sparkle and my end tables gleam with lemony luster.
So, instead of fighting the guilt that reared its ugly head every time I viewed a Facebook friend's account of waxing the floor or detailing the car, I owned it (if others can embrace their shortcomings, so can I). I decided if this was how God made me, He must have had other tasks for me to accomplish during this time of national peril.
Successful Laziness
My older sister lives by the motto, "Organization is the key to successful laziness." Her hall closets and refrigerator, in all their orderly splendor, make me want to scream. However, I've given her philosophy a chance during the quarantine, on the slim chance that she might be onto something.
It seemed logical to start by implementing a daily routine, even a loose one, and trying to stick with it. This included an early wake up time (OK, it's gotten later as time has gone on), getting dressed in clothes (as opposed to just changing bathrobes), and trying to build a bit of exercise into each day (I'm pretty lax on this one - walking counts, even from bedroom to bathroom, and so does breathing).
Not wanting to live in total slovenly squalor, I've allowed a few small cleaning jobs and mini house projects to make the list, but room overhauls have been strictly off limits. Progress, not perfection, has been the goal. I've kept in the forefront of my mind that, if self-discipline is a continuum, I was born on the wrong end of it.
Next, my prayer partner, whose walk with God is only a step down from Mother Teresa's, "suggested" it might be wise for me to clear some space in my dwelling. This idea met with reluctance, as clean outs aren't too far a cry from doing housework (which, as I said, isn't in my genetic code). However, one oughtn't to argue with a chip off Mother Teresa's block. Suffice it to say, my garage and basement let out sighs of relief when unneeded stuff found its way to the curb; cobwebs have been swept away and precious floor space reclaimed.
For the record, I'm not finished yet. My friend keeps reminding me that other rooms, drawers and closets await my intervention, like mythical monsters waiting to be fed.
Knowing that some days would be more productive than others has allowed me the freedom to make mistakes without chucking the whole organizational endeavor. Also, having some built-in structure, such as morning and evening prayer times with other believers, has encouraged me to get back on track if it's been a less than stellar day.
The Ever-Present Need for Bandage Rolling
In a previous post I discussed an important way I found to "roll bandages" during the corona lock down. Specifically, I described the vital work of sharing the gospel with folks who may have been more open during a deadly pestilence than they otherwise would be to considering eternity. This work was an outgrowth of one of the first ideas God gave me - to check in on others far and near, to see how they were doing and try to help if I could.
As our nation inched its way towards the Yellow Phase of COVID seclusion, we simultaneously careened into the anguish and ensuing violence of a nation still agonizing - well over two centuries since our country's inception - over race issues that could have been addressed with a few pen strokes by our founding fathers.
Hear my heart. I don't wish to oversimplify an incredibly complex and tragic issue. However, it does seem painfully clear that the institutionalized racism on which our country was literally built continues to plague us to this very day, leaving wounds which are not only unhealed, but still gushing actual blood.
A city not ten miles from my home was ravaged by looters and violence. This proximity caused me to fear for the well-being of many brothers and sisters I worship with - many of whom hail from another continent, and whose racial backgrounds differ from mine. Their homes and/or businesses sit right in the heart of or just around the corner from that sacked city.
For this reason, my calls and notes evolved from inquiring after folks' health to checking on their physical safety, and that of their properties. These small actions, along with countless hours of communal prayer, are for me baby steps towards reunifying a battered America.
Sharpening Skill Sets
Other doors have opened for ministry and learning. I learned to navigate some new online communication platforms, enhancing my skill set along the way. Technology is a wonderful thing, and it has been used to its fullest during this health crisis. Prayer meetings and Bible studies have sprung up over phone lines and computer networks. Many pastors began preaching from virtual pulpits, and continue to do so. I felt compelled to take advantage of these opportunities, to put some "currency" into my own spiritual "bank account," since my future, like everyone else's, remains unsettled.
There's nothing selfish about rolling bandages to stock one's own medicine cabinet.
In addition, I switched the biweekly Bible study I teach to a phone format, and upped its schedule to every week. I felt the accelerated pace would benefit the group, as well as build extra spiritual muscle into the instructor.
No one ever accused me of being altruistic.
I also had the chance to finally finish several books which have been on my back burner longer than the Ty-D-Bol Man's been out of business. No, that's not an allusion to where I did the reading, although it did feel cathartic to check them off the list.
Novel Pursuits
These meaningful activities still left me with time on my hands, so I jumped back on the publishing bandwagon. Compiling a book proposal isn't quite as much fun as getting a root canal, but then again, you don't need dental insurance to query an agent.
Alas, the person to whom I sent my manuscript seems not to comprehend the true worth of the gem she holds in her hands.That's a face-saving way of saying I've heard nothing. Sadly, the distasteful job of tweaking my pitch to send to other agencies now looms over me the way a final exam scoffs at a student with a raging case of senior-itis.
At least I won't die of boredom.
First Things First
Clearly, there's no end to the cornucopia of things one can find to do that don't fall into the "H" category - and I haven't even scratched the surface. Let us not forget face-timing with loved ones, trying out new recipes, praying through church directories, writing letters and articles like this one, keeping up with social media, managing finances, dubbing certain days "retreat days" to simply soak in God's splendor, learning fun, new skills like how to use the weed wacker (it's so simple, a child could do it), finding fun, new skills like how to break the weed wacker (hint: it's only supposed to be used on skinny weeds, not husky wonders like beanstalks), finding ways to repair the weed wacker (I'm still working on that one)...
The one thing I knew going into the imposed isolation was, I couldn't fill that glorious gift of time with nothing but scrubbing and polishing. A little, yes, but for me, that can't be a career. While I admire those who keep house meticulously, I lose interest and heart if that's all I have to do.
So, for me, the quarantine hasn't been boring. Scary, yes. Anxiety, producing - no question. Did I mention the many frightening dreams I had early on, and sometimes still have, as I ponder my employment future and the rough road that lies before our country?
Still, I find the surest way to shake off those fears is to start and end my day with the Lord. Somehow, the rest always falls into place.
"But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and His righteousness;
Housework Heebie Jeebies
I hate housework. Always have. I'm well aware that many who were home-bound during the COVID-19 quarantine spent bunches of time catching up on home duties. That makes sense, and bless their hearts. There's a part of me that feels I should have done likewise, as I, too, remained mostly at home for weeks on end due to the pandemic.
Don't get me wrong. I love tidy. My sons will tell you, I'll wake them up from a cozy sleep to come downstairs and fold the blanket they left strewn on the chair last night. OK, that may be a stretch, but you get the idea. But, to me, tidy is a way of life, while clean, on the other hand, may just be a way of death. I can't understand folks who find it burdensome to put a glass in the dishwasher or toss a gum wrapper into the trash, but neither can I relate to friends who pencil in spring cleaning on their calendars and - horror of horrors - actually accomplish the task.
I just couldn't wrap my head around the thought that this isolation was imposed on me for the sole purpose of making my floors sparkle and my end tables gleam with lemony luster.
So, instead of fighting the guilt that reared its ugly head every time I viewed a Facebook friend's account of waxing the floor or detailing the car, I owned it (if others can embrace their shortcomings, so can I). I decided if this was how God made me, He must have had other tasks for me to accomplish during this time of national peril.
Successful Laziness
My older sister lives by the motto, "Organization is the key to successful laziness." Her hall closets and refrigerator, in all their orderly splendor, make me want to scream. However, I've given her philosophy a chance during the quarantine, on the slim chance that she might be onto something.
It seemed logical to start by implementing a daily routine, even a loose one, and trying to stick with it. This included an early wake up time (OK, it's gotten later as time has gone on), getting dressed in clothes (as opposed to just changing bathrobes), and trying to build a bit of exercise into each day (I'm pretty lax on this one - walking counts, even from bedroom to bathroom, and so does breathing).
Not wanting to live in total slovenly squalor, I've allowed a few small cleaning jobs and mini house projects to make the list, but room overhauls have been strictly off limits. Progress, not perfection, has been the goal. I've kept in the forefront of my mind that, if self-discipline is a continuum, I was born on the wrong end of it.
Next, my prayer partner, whose walk with God is only a step down from Mother Teresa's, "suggested" it might be wise for me to clear some space in my dwelling. This idea met with reluctance, as clean outs aren't too far a cry from doing housework (which, as I said, isn't in my genetic code). However, one oughtn't to argue with a chip off Mother Teresa's block. Suffice it to say, my garage and basement let out sighs of relief when unneeded stuff found its way to the curb; cobwebs have been swept away and precious floor space reclaimed.
For the record, I'm not finished yet. My friend keeps reminding me that other rooms, drawers and closets await my intervention, like mythical monsters waiting to be fed.
Knowing that some days would be more productive than others has allowed me the freedom to make mistakes without chucking the whole organizational endeavor. Also, having some built-in structure, such as morning and evening prayer times with other believers, has encouraged me to get back on track if it's been a less than stellar day.
The Ever-Present Need for Bandage Rolling
In a previous post I discussed an important way I found to "roll bandages" during the corona lock down. Specifically, I described the vital work of sharing the gospel with folks who may have been more open during a deadly pestilence than they otherwise would be to considering eternity. This work was an outgrowth of one of the first ideas God gave me - to check in on others far and near, to see how they were doing and try to help if I could.
As our nation inched its way towards the Yellow Phase of COVID seclusion, we simultaneously careened into the anguish and ensuing violence of a nation still agonizing - well over two centuries since our country's inception - over race issues that could have been addressed with a few pen strokes by our founding fathers.
Hear my heart. I don't wish to oversimplify an incredibly complex and tragic issue. However, it does seem painfully clear that the institutionalized racism on which our country was literally built continues to plague us to this very day, leaving wounds which are not only unhealed, but still gushing actual blood.A city not ten miles from my home was ravaged by looters and violence. This proximity caused me to fear for the well-being of many brothers and sisters I worship with - many of whom hail from another continent, and whose racial backgrounds differ from mine. Their homes and/or businesses sit right in the heart of or just around the corner from that sacked city.
For this reason, my calls and notes evolved from inquiring after folks' health to checking on their physical safety, and that of their properties. These small actions, along with countless hours of communal prayer, are for me baby steps towards reunifying a battered America.
Sharpening Skill Sets
Other doors have opened for ministry and learning. I learned to navigate some new online communication platforms, enhancing my skill set along the way. Technology is a wonderful thing, and it has been used to its fullest during this health crisis. Prayer meetings and Bible studies have sprung up over phone lines and computer networks. Many pastors began preaching from virtual pulpits, and continue to do so. I felt compelled to take advantage of these opportunities, to put some "currency" into my own spiritual "bank account," since my future, like everyone else's, remains unsettled.
There's nothing selfish about rolling bandages to stock one's own medicine cabinet.
In addition, I switched the biweekly Bible study I teach to a phone format, and upped its schedule to every week. I felt the accelerated pace would benefit the group, as well as build extra spiritual muscle into the instructor.No one ever accused me of being altruistic.
I also had the chance to finally finish several books which have been on my back burner longer than the Ty-D-Bol Man's been out of business. No, that's not an allusion to where I did the reading, although it did feel cathartic to check them off the list.
Novel Pursuits
These meaningful activities still left me with time on my hands, so I jumped back on the publishing bandwagon. Compiling a book proposal isn't quite as much fun as getting a root canal, but then again, you don't need dental insurance to query an agent.
Alas, the person to whom I sent my manuscript seems not to comprehend the true worth of the gem she holds in her hands.That's a face-saving way of saying I've heard nothing. Sadly, the distasteful job of tweaking my pitch to send to other agencies now looms over me the way a final exam scoffs at a student with a raging case of senior-itis.
At least I won't die of boredom.
First Things First
Clearly, there's no end to the cornucopia of things one can find to do that don't fall into the "H" category - and I haven't even scratched the surface. Let us not forget face-timing with loved ones, trying out new recipes, praying through church directories, writing letters and articles like this one, keeping up with social media, managing finances, dubbing certain days "retreat days" to simply soak in God's splendor, learning fun, new skills like how to use the weed wacker (it's so simple, a child could do it), finding fun, new skills like how to break the weed wacker (hint: it's only supposed to be used on skinny weeds, not husky wonders like beanstalks), finding ways to repair the weed wacker (I'm still working on that one)...
The one thing I knew going into the imposed isolation was, I couldn't fill that glorious gift of time with nothing but scrubbing and polishing. A little, yes, but for me, that can't be a career. While I admire those who keep house meticulously, I lose interest and heart if that's all I have to do.
So, for me, the quarantine hasn't been boring. Scary, yes. Anxiety, producing - no question. Did I mention the many frightening dreams I had early on, and sometimes still have, as I ponder my employment future and the rough road that lies before our country?
Still, I find the surest way to shake off those fears is to start and end my day with the Lord. Somehow, the rest always falls into place.
"But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and His righteousness;
and all these things shall be added unto you."
~ Matthew 6:33 ~
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