I wake up before my toddler, waddle my pregnant body to the kitchen, and begin prepping my morning luxury—a hot cup of French press coffee. I’ve lost count of how many weeks we’ve been quarantined because of the coronavirus pandemic, and if you ask me, I’d have to think hard to remember what day of the week it is.
It’s Sunday, I remind myself. The only difference between today and tomorrow is that I’ll have to keep my daughter occupied as I attempt to watch the virtual church service this morning. I already have a strategy of snacks and games to keep her occupied, but I know that we’ll have at least one meltdown in the middle of the sermon.
Other than that hour balancing my own spiritual health and my daughter’s needs, it’s like any other day of the week. During the pandemic, my husband has been working from home in our upstairs office, and as an officer in the Army Reserves, he sometimes has to work weekends. But, really, there is no weekend anymore; COVID-19 has leveled out our schedule into daily uniformity.
What is even the point of Sunday right now? I think to myself as I savor my coffee and watch my daughter squirm in her bed on the baby monitor. Only weeks into this “unprecedented time,” I already feel the daily drudgery overwhelming me. I do the same work I’ve been doing the last six days; how is this supposed to be my Sabbath rest?Continue reading “Not Just Another Day”