I clearly remember Week 1. I had the sneaking suspicion that I was going to be working from home for a while... likely almost a month!... and I determined right off the bat that I was going to create a routine, be disciplined, and manage my mental, emotional, physical and spiritual health. So I created guidelines for myself: get in 10k steps per day, no takeout for three weeks because I was GOING to create a habit of cooking (the local economy could wait), stay active, get up at the same time as I used to get up to go into the office, drink enough water, wear REAL PANTS, makeup and a real bra every day, avoid alcohol, and absolutely definitely not going to start a Netflix subscription.
Now that I've built the right habits, I'm not as rigid as I was at the beginning. And for all that I'm about to say, I'm really happy that I did take the time to build those habits to manage my mental health for those four weeks that have turned into (10?) that will likely last until there's a vaccine.
All that said, I've also learned something: you can't discipline your way out of feeling the impact of living through a crisis.
Remember when hugging and handshaking became instantly taboo and we all switched to elbow bumping for a hot minute?
I remember my last elbow bump. It was the last physical interaction I had with anyone that wasn't tinged with trepidation or guilt.
Social distancing during a pandemic comes with unique challenges for single people. I had felt like I had mastered singleness. I was (am) genuinely content, and a big reason for that was because I heeded the biblical call to be part of family. I may not have had kids of my own, but there are kids in my life that I love. Mothers are faced with constant demands on their time, but I felt like I had started to really learn how to slide in and be supportive.
When we suddenly find ourselves living in a socially distanced world, all of that is gone. As a single woman, I feel like I had been playing musical chairs, and I was just dancing to the music and mingling and having fun and everything was totally fine... but then the music stopped. And I found myself suddenly staring at an empty room, with nothing but hours upon hours of Zoom calls to connect me to the world of friendly faces that used to be part of a normal week.
I HAVE to pause here because yes, there are unique challenges for single people in social distancing, but these challenges are just different and not necessarily better or worse than anyone else in any situation. All it takes is one "NO DON'T GO OUT THAT DOOR!" during a work conference call to give me a small taste of what it's like to be a working parent.
So all of this to say that we are living through a crisis, life is not as it "ought" to be right now, and maybe we can't self-discipline our way into managing this season like rockstars.
What does this mean?
The Apostle Paul wrote the book of Philippians while he was in prison. It may be slightly extreme to compare our current plight to the plight of a prisoner, but I think there are definite parallels. Restrictions in where we can go and who we can see, uncertainty about what's next. What I love about the book of Philippians is that it's best characterized as being a book about joy.
The word "joy" may carry baggage for some who grew up in the church. We may have been told at times to just be happy because we have Jesus and he's in control and he makes things better. We may feel like we're somehow not actually Christians if we don't naturally face life's trials with a smile on our face, so many of us may have learned to just fake it. I know that even in the past week, as I've struggled with feeling down or frustrated, I've literally told myself "I don't know what the problem is. I'm trying to think about all the right things."
When I re-read Philippians 4 early in this season, what struck me is that Paul frequently references the need to focus our minds. In verse 4: "Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, rejoice." In verse 6: "Do not be anxious about anything". And in verse 8, we get a whole list of things that we should be thinking about: "whatever is true... honorable... just... pure... lovely... commendable".
A friend then directed me to Lamentations, because it felt appropriate for the season. You may recognize one of the most famous verses from Lamentations from the hymn "Great is Thy Faithfulness." As I read Lamentations, I realized we went through two and a half chapters of Jeremiah complaining about what was going on until we hit this oft-overlooked verse: "But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope..." (Lam. 3:21) Jeremiah had to consciously remind himself to focus on joy and God's goodness.
Joy is something that must be cultivated; it doesn't come naturally. It also isn't something that we can "level up" on and then just keep. We need to be constantly renewing our minds (Romans 12:2). We need to expect that our thoughts will drift, that life will be hard. And we need to give ourselves the same grace that Jesus Christ extended to us. We are not going to handle this perfectly, but by the grace of God, we can keep getting up again.
One really practical tip that has gotten me out of the deepest of funks during this season: think about what you're thankful for. I've done this in a few ways. First, I have a text thread with my family, and every day, we pop in there and share three things that we're thankful for. Second, when I find myself in an exceptional mood that I can't exercise or theologize my way out of, I just start thanking God for everything I can think of.
So. Stop pressuring yourself. Know that life is hard right now (for all of us). And be thankful despite the sweet blessings of life that we're missing out on... but also because of the unexpected joys that come from a mandated slowdown to our otherwise busy schedules.
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