Andie.ink

I crawled into bed last night around 11:30. My husband whispered to me that our Governor had closed all Michigan schools.

At first, I was deflated. What am I going to do for my field placement hours? What would I do with my kids for three weeks? (Y’ALL. My kids are INTENSE. Four strong-willed leaders who are set on nothing short of world domination.)

But as I was falling asleep and chatting with friends my mind started to shift as I saw my community… at midnight… already coming together.
People offering to watch kids so parents can keep working.
People offering to feed children who rely on school lunches.

There is a concept in the Trauma and Mental Health world that if you do not process your trauma, it will catch up to you and shut you down in some way. You cannot outrun it. No matter how fast you run.

For decades now our world has been speeding up. Our lives are getting faster and faster. We’ve built a momentum that doesn’t seem to be slowing down. More. MORE. MORE!!!

But underneath a small whisper has been rippling beneath the giant storm of activities. “Quiet! Be Still!”
Some of us have to strain to hear it beneath our assortment of activities and responsibilities we’ve built upon our shoulders. Some of us can hear it a little louder and are not sure what it means. Some of us have already heard and listened and living in the freedom of pouring into our callings and destinies.

“Quiet! Be Still!”

This morning I woke up with a desire to reframe this panic.

Maybe it’s time.
Maybe this is it.
Maybe the world has been ignoring its trauma for so long it’s beginning to shut down.

Maybe we need this. All of us. We need a moment to breathe and rest and hear the small voice echoing back thousands of years.

“Quiet! Be still!”

Yes. We still have responsibilities.
Yes. Some of us will need help to make it through.
Yes. We will need to still be responsible adults.

But. Many of us are literally being handed the time to “Be quiet! Be still!”

The Earth itself is forcing our hand.

I believe if we reframe this panic we will see a worldwide community arise of helpers, an infusion of kindness, a camaraderie comparable to the world wars… except this time we are uniting as a world.
Instead of a sentence, this is a gift.

Yes. The politicians will still roar and battle and the stocks will fall and rise and some people will still buy out the most insane items to stock up on because they think this is the beginning of the apocalypse. Bunkers will be built and some people will still ostracize.

But some of us will hear the whisper, “Be quiet! Be still!”

And we breathe in deep. We will soak up time with our children and our loved ones. We will protect out vulnerable. We will care for those in need. We will all do our part and do the next right thing. Kindness and love will outshine the giant storm of media and panic like a lighthouse calling its people home. Offering refuge.

Maybe I’m reading too much into this.
Maybe it’s a little optimistic of me to think this is in the realm of possibility.
Maybe I have faith in places that are too dark.
Maybe this all just seems a little silly to you and that I am not taking this too seriously.

I am. I do understand the gravity. I am one of the vulnerable. I have a heart condition that places me in the center of the storm.

But I hear the whisper. “Be quiet! Be Still!”

So. I am breathing in deep. And I am choosing to believe that as the world shuts down, many of us are being given exactly what we have been trying to outrun.

Be quiet.

Be still.