Let It Be

Well, friends. I'm back. It looks like I'm going to be back at home for a while.

This wash your hands, don't touch your face, keep your distance,
stay at home pandemic has pushed me back into the nest.
I would imagine that's true for most of us. Or it should be.

STAY HOME!

Even as I write that, however, I am mindful of the many, many people for whom home is not a place of safety, security, and rest. I think about the children for whom school was a place to be away from danger and to eat two meals that aren't available at home. I think about the people who have been told to go home and stay home - and therefore have no income. This "stay home" thing is complex, scary, confusing, and unsettling for all of us.

I wish I knew what to do or say or how to pray to make it all feel better and be better.
I wish I knew a way to escape all this, to evade it, to avoid it.
But as far as I can tell, the whole world is dealing with this thing.
And I haven't come across any secret prayer phrases or practices.
I haven't discovered a mantra powerful enough to stop this pandemic.
If you come across any secret rituals or herbs to burn, please let me know!

I'm just here at home. Journaling. Drinking kombucha. Reading. Attending way too many Zoom meetings with way too many people for way too many hours each day. Trying not to eat all of our pandemic rations in one sitting. Cancelling getaways I had planned and meals out that I was looking forward to. Doing some online shopping. Cursing and stomping my feet every now and then. Crying every now and then. Wondering and worrying about our future as a family, as a community, as a city, as a nation, and as a world. And I'm also watching a lot of Law and Order, The Real Housewives of Atlanta, and movies.

The other day, my oldest child and I began to watch the movie "Yesterday" together.
Good music. Some funny scenes.
Then about half way through, the movie stopped. Wouldn't go on.
HBO seized up and wouldn't go on.
I found an upcoming rebroadcast of the movie and set the DVR to record it.
I hope the recorded version is complete. I want to know what happens.

In case you haven't heard about that movie, it tells the story of a young man in England, a not-terribly- successful musician, whose life is turned upside after a harrowing accident. When he recovers from the accident, he discovers that he is the only person who knows the Beatles music. No one around him recognizes their lyrics when he quotes them or their songs when he plays them on his guitar or on the piano. What happens next? I'm not sure. The movie stopped.

I'm not a big music person. I like old Baptist hymns and contemporary versions of old Baptist hymns. I could name a few musicians I like, but that would only serve to prove that I'm not a big music person.

But having said that, I will also say this - I recognized the tune and the words to "Let it be" when he sang it in the movie. I won't try to recite them here, but I recognized them when I heard them.

At this time in our global, national, and collective history, at this time in my personal life story, I am trying to let it be.

I am trying to not drown myself in guilt over the fact that we have a home where we all feel safe and where there is enough food for us to eat.
I am trying to let it be.

I am learning to accept the deep humanity in myself, my husband, and our children, the vastly different ways in which we deal with frightful and difficult situations, and the shortness of patience that is occasionally on display during these days of social distancing - from everyone except the people we live with. There's no chance for me to get away from these people - and there's no chance for them to get away from me -  for the foreseeable future.
I am trying to let it be.

There is a long box in my Passion Planner (love my Passion Planner!) that has April 18th at the top, and that box that is filled with scribbles and exclamation points because that is the day I am supposed to graduate from seminary after five long years of study. Looking at that box now brings up a whole lot of sadness and a fair number of sighs.
I am trying to let it be.

My "let it be" list could go on for pages. I'm sure you have your own extensive list of places, times, situations, and circumstances in which you need to "let it be."

This is so much. It's too much. This is all too much.
And there is too little that I can do to change any of it.
And I am trying to let it be.
To breathe. To believe.
To trust that there is hope and a future.
That we will get through this.

But for now, for today, I am trying to let it be.

My amazing life coach, Kelley Palmer, recently invited me to make a list of things that nourish me.
What calms me, centers me, makes me relax, feel a sense of peace?
It doesn't have to be "green juice, kombucha, prayer, and cleaning my house."
It can be hot, sweet coffee and Australian licorice - even though I am trying to avoid too much sugar.
It can be bourbon and ginger ale or rum and coke - even though I am trying to drink more water.
It can be binge watching Law and Order - even though I have dozens of books to read.
It can be spending extra time in bed - even though I would normally hop out of bed to get ready for heading off to work.

I am in the process of adding to my list of what nourishes me - and I am doing those things. I feel better for having begun the list. Seeing all the things that make me feel calm and peaceful, happy and contented all on the same page, on the same list, just doing that has brought a smile to face. And doing the things, it feels fantastic.

So let me ask you to do the same - make a list of what nourishes you, calms you, settles you.
Make a list of the people you can call or text or video chat with.
Do some internet research on how to use the ingredients you already have to make new dishes.
Go to Pinterest and find recipes for how to make toilet paper (only kidding!)

Make a list of the things. And then do the things.

And let it be.


One thing that is on my list of nourishing activities is reading the Bible.
Here's a familiar verse that is keeping me upright and strong these days.
Psalm 23:4 - Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, 
I will fear no evil for you 
(Holy God of Life, Healing, and Hope - this insertion is mine)
are with me.


Not alone. Not even in the valley.
Never alone.
Even now, as I am learning to let it be.
Perhaps especially now.