What are you looking for?

Here in Colorado, our shelter-in-place ends in a matter of days, yielding to reduced prevention measures. As we celebrate a homebound birthday of my most extroverted child today, I’m reminded how tough these weeks have been for him–resulting in some signs of stress. He opened his quarantine gifts sent by Grandma and Grandpa, and we’ve got a cookout, and all-family games of hide-and-seek and kickball on the docket.

I think, too, of my friend waiting to finally grieve her husband’s passing in community.  I long for worship services in person. For fear to subside.

Somehow, it feels appropriate this is happening at the tail end of winter in Colorado; that soon, we will all emerge squinting, mole-like, wondering about what’s kept us inside with so much beauty to be had.

But seasons, even years, of darkness make us treasure hunters. And I confess I’m one of those–despite some tough stuff–who’ve found some serious quarantine gifts, if not quarantine happiness.

Some of you will remember my compilation of gifts I don’t want to lose from my family’s years in Uganda, even from my son’s cancer scare. So I guess it makes sense quarantine gifts get their own list.

What would you add to your own list of quarantine gifts?

Parents at home. Families together.

I relish the long family dinners; evenings where absolutely nothing is scheduled. I love my husband working from home, even his presence changing the atmosphere. He’s made memorable lunch breaks with the kids, and picks up a football to toss with them after zero commute.

I love my daughter’s sudden lack of anxiety,  my son’s mellowed attitude away from his peers and his self-disciplined workouts and school work.

Yes, all this love hovers around a family that’s had more time to bicker and pick at each other, who’ve disobeyed, and whose disrespect continues to rear its ugly head.

But there’s some good stuff when families come together. My husband is now contemplating working more regularly from home. Some of us (not all of us!) are wondering what it would be like to have a child schooled virtually next year.

See, I remember that prophecies about John the Baptist speak of turning the hearts of fathers back to their children (Luke 1:17)—to prepare the way for Jesus. 

I’m wondering: Could a bit of non-“doing”, a fast from our schedules and commitments, bring our families and communities a bit closer to where we belong? 

Which brings me to–

Simplicity of schedule and stuff.

Studies are showing coronavirus is changing the way we spend our money. We’re reducing our discretionary spending.

So along with less activity, most of us are buying less–prioritizing our spending and even our groceries to more essentials. (The candy aisles here have remained well-stocked here, but gosh, still not much TP, bread, or eggs.)

And yes, I know massive economic fallout from this anomaly in time threatens the horizon. But there’s also something to be said for a season of living with less; of being able to teach our kids simplicity. To revel in less of the possessions and activities that sometimes choke what is real and breathing and far more precious.

Our need for more community than the internet.

I’ve read that the good old fashioned telephone call is back in popularity. We’ve all realized that the internet isn’t enough to make us feel “connected.”

We can’t wait to throw our arms around each other, share a cup of coffee, have friends for dinner. (My family’s making a list.)

The God who came and dwelled among us (John 1:14) is the God who’s not content, so to speak, with unending social distancing. He liked walks with his image-bearers in the cool of the day (Genesis 3:18). And even before people, our triune God was a God in tight-knit community.

He made us for each other. After all, it’s not good for man to be alone (Genesis 2:18).

An eye for the most vulnerable.

In a world that values money-making, a non-stop lifestyle, activity–we valued the vulnerable among us despite the toll on employment, despite canceled weddings and graduations, despite the need for our kids to be well-educated.

And we did it for the elderly, for those with medical conditions, for sometimes-marginalized people groups. Yeah, there were a lot of other factors, like medical system capacity. But these are also decisions driven by a high value of human life. (Isaiah 58 has a lot of great things to say about “fasting” for the sake of the powerless.)

The nearness of our own mortality.

In a recent podcast, John Piper reflected on God’s possible purposes in COVID-19. Piper, always unflinching, points out the proximity of death–and how it opens conversations for our need for God; how disaster flays open simplistic worldviews.

I think this is just the beginning of the quarantine gifts I’m unearthing. Tragedy has been here. But also God’s goodness.

Comment below: What quarantine gifts will you keep?