It’s been a year since the world dramatically changed. Last Spring Break our family was headed to Dallas for the AAC tourney, and suddenly it was cancelled. One by one huge events including March Madness were called off. I remember feeling like the angel of death was headed our way so we all needed to get in our houses, shut the doors and pray. And that’s what we did.
I’m now reflecting on what’s changed since that moment one year ago this week. Before the pandemic I was pretty smug. I was feeling good about having raised three boys to adulthood without any major drama, transitioning to grandma status, and being physically fit. Today I’m a few pandemic pounds heavier, several friends shorter, and emotionally and mentally whacked. Unfortunately the pandemic caused so much stress and the election created so much division, many relationships have been strained and even severed. Some friends and relatives I thought of as “my people” are now distant acquaintances at best and strangers at worst. Toxic politics combined with the unprecedented experience of the pandemic encouraged us all to draw lines in the sand and redefine who and what we will tolerate in our lives.
Our personal worlds became little bubbles filled with only those we lived with, social media, and TV. Many bad habits took hold as well as tunnel vision. Unhealthy and even abusive relationships suddenly seemed sacred as we only had those we already lived with or communicated within our small constraining bubbles.
As I look back over the past year I am again reminded of the underworld in CS Lewis’s The Silver Chair. It’s obviously left a huge impression on me and rings true, as this is my third post with reference to it.
Puddleglum the Marshwiggle, Prince Rilian, Eustace, and Jill Pole are trapped underground in the Green Witch’s world and are forgetting there was ever an above ground place with the warm sun, moon and stars. The Lady of the Green Kirtle (the witch) is beautiful and an enchantress. She has killed Prince Rilian’s mother and captured him, keeping him under her bewitching spell of beauty and magic. She whispers in his ear that there is no Narnia, and the sun is dangerous, and he loses himself and everything he has ever trusted or believed in to her charms. Puddleglum, Eustace, and Jill Pole are on a mission to rescue him when they are also captured and begin to lose hope. Her manipulative words seduce them into believing Narnia and the outside world are merely a dream, but Puddleglum stamps out the magical fire of incense that is fogging their brains and gives an impassioned speech.
“One word, Ma’am,” he said, coming back from the fire; limping, because of the pain. “One word. All you’ve been saying is quite right, I shouldn’t wonder. I’m a chap who always liked to know the worst and then put the best face I can on it. So I won’t deny any of what you said. But there’s one thing more to be said, even so. Suppose we have only dreamed, or made up, all those things – trees and grass and sun and moon and stars and Aslan himself. Suppose we have. Then all I can say is that, in that case, the made-up things seem a good deal more important than the real ones. Suppose this black pit of a kingdom of yours is the only world. Well, it strikes me as a pretty poor one. And that’s a funny thing, when you come to think of it. We’re just babies making up a game, if you’re right. But four babies playing a game can make a play-world which licks your real world hollow. That’s why I’m going to stand by the play-world. I’m on Aslan’s side even if there isn’t any Aslan to lead it. I’m going to live as like a Narnian as I can even if there isn’t any Narnia. So, thanking you kindly for our supper, if these two gentlemen and the young lady are ready, we’re leaving your court at once and setting out in the dark to spend our lives looking for Overland. Not that our lives will be very long, I should think; but that’s a small loss if the world’s as dull a place as you say.”
I bring this up because the sun is rising, Spring is coming, the fog is lifting. Vaccinations are overriding Covid testings and cases are continuing to dramatically drop in most areas. The world as we remember it is going to return and we will rejoice and be glad in it!
But much damage has been done to many of our relationships and our mental and emotional health, and we must face it head on, and not bury it in our relief of the returning normalcy. Real growth is cultivated with hard work which can be painful. Our delusions that brought us some relief and comfort in our little bubbles will not hold in the returning days of freedom and normalcy, and we need to pop them and breathe in the fresh air, remembering who we were and all we wish to be. The future is brighter as we lift our heads to the sun in the outside world again!
I look forward to being with many of you for the first time since last March, hugging you, celebrating our friendships and being able to be together again doing things that we took for granted before such as sharing wine, breaking bread, going to events, etc. These “normal” gatherings will seem like extravagant festivals of joy that I bet we never take for granted again! And I hope we will learn from the unexpected vulnerability we all faced. Like coming out from underground, our souls are sickly and our skin may be sallow, but the sun is no longer just a memory or a dream, let us bask in its warmth and adjust our weakened eyes to the clarifying light of a new day!
Seasons of the Soul 