How to deal with the perpetual uncertainty of 2020? We know how it’s been dealing with us—economic upheaval and a deadly virus like the devil in 1 Peter 5:8, who “prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour.” This is all compounded by the daily indignities of quarantine, masking, and social distancing, lest we become the next victim. No matter our complaints about the stresses of our lives six months ago, I’m guessing many, if not most of us, would now eagerly take them back.
Though circumstances may be out of our control, we still get to choose our focus, and in turn, our attitude. Over the past several months, life has stripped away so much of what we’d been used to focusing on. I suspect I’m not the only person in America who spent the first couple months of quarantine wandering around trying to figure out what to do with myself. Before, I had no choice. I had responsibilities and deadlines. With them removed, I had nothing but possibilities and an open schedule. “What day is it?” my husband and I kept asking each other.
My dogs and cat, on the other hand, operate on an inner schedule set largely by their bodily functions. Mealtimes, snacks, and potty breaks don’t care about pandemics. It’s easy enough to scoop some food when a well-placed paw reminds me it’s mealtime, or someone asks for the door or attention to the litter box.
The problem has been the dogs’ restless whines and pacing when it gets to be their usual walk time. At first, not yet fully realizing the extent to which the world had changed, I simply grabbed the leashes. Everybody scrambled, and off to the trail we went.
It was the middle of a weekday, but to further facilitate social distancing, I headed to a remote section, where I rarely saw other trail users. To my great shock, vehicles crowded the parking lot, along with milling dogs, clusters of chatting bikers, and spandexed people doing stretches along the fence.
The pattern repeated, no matter where I went. It could be dusk or blistering midday. Rain might be falling. Still, the people were there, many with unleashed dogs and unmasked faces. Aimless clusters of teenagers drifted across the trail like swarms of gnats, oblivious to social distancing.
For a few weeks, I brooded over the “hostile takeover” of “my” trails. Finally, however, I came to my senses and was able to be grateful people were choosing to use their quarantine to exercise outdoors. I only wished they’d give an old lady with three dogs and COVID risk factors some space.
Eventually, I accepted that another aspect of my former life had been stripped away. But God was still sprinkling my life with blessings. We started walking along little-used railroad spurs and the fringes of unoccupied business parks. In the process, my eyes opened to all the wonderful discoveries I never knew existed before being forced to let go of the familiar. The dogs, bless their hearts, remained as enthusiastic as if we were hiking the Great Smokies.
We saw slopes drifted with wildflowers, found a hidden waterfall, and wandered through the vine-tangled ruins of a long-abandoned brick factory. An antique Gutenberg press adorned the grounds of a printing company. Following an overgrown path along a creek, we stumbled upon little arched footbridges weathering away in the weeds. A deserted house invited us to stop and wonder who had lived there and why they’d left.
“For who has despised the day of small things?” (Zechariah 4:10 NIV) Sadly, I had—in a world literally filled with wonder. Life today can be scary and seem to be changing faster than we can cope, but we still have so much if we only look for it with bright eyes and grateful hearts.
Susan Kimmel Wright is a child of the Appalachian Mountains. A former lawyer, Susan has published three children’s mystery novels and is a prolific contributor to Chicken Soup for the Soul books. Please watch for her first cozy mystery for adult readers, Mabel Gets the Ax, currently set for 2021 release by Mountain Brook Ink. Susan can generally be found nose deep in a book, out in the woods with her dogs, or online at links below. Please stop by.
