Greetings from the land of quiet, of snow, of a beautiful frozen lake and toddlers that are eating Lucky Charms as we speak.

We left the craziness of our home town in Portsmouth, NH and went north to our house in Maine, with gratitude for a Target that still has toilet paper and a conscious decision to stop reading the news. We are no stranger to illness – the twin’s hand, foot and mouth disease has already had me quarantined for the last week and a half, and kept Ronan and me home from the ski mountain today.

Being here has given me some space to breathe, to look back at the events of the past week, and get out from under the cloud of anxiety hovering everywhere. I can point to when the panic spiked in and around me – Thursday morning, where in the span of one Pilates video a text chain of my friends went from should we be stocking up? to my sister has no toilet paper in Michigan. When I checked out at Target approximately 90 minutes later I looked like a crazy person with the volume of stuff on the conveyer belt. When I let everyone behind me know I have six kids, they just nodded, and one of them said, “I think you might need more wine.” As I unloaded everything from the car, I noticed that I felt the way I did on 9/11. Aware that bad things might happen, but totally unsure about when and what degree. Worrying for the elderly, the homeless, single working mothers were all mixed in with do we have enough diapers and wipes?

I noticed the unease in my belly as I drove up here and had some time to examine it. Perhaps you do too? Mine was fueled by the very little windows I had to shop while the twins napped, the news, and the heavy sighs from the Rite Aid clerk as I piled Tylenol, disinfectant spray, more wine (took their advice) and Scrabble on the counter. How to pass the time with kids home from school? We have one answer now. But the fear that drove me to grab it is unsettling.

I confess my food hoarding tendencies are in full effect, even though I rationally know we’ll be fine.

It is curious watching myself sooth my anxieties. On Tuesday I read that New Jersey ran out of hand sanitizer and in the next minute I bought eight bottles on Amazon. That seems crazy until you consider that there are none on Amazon now and I’ve handed them out to my elderly mother and neighbors. I texted my husband to buy two gallons of milk even though I brought two gallons for the weekend. When he looked at my quizzically I said, just in case our grocery delivery doesn’t really come on Monday. He just nodded. We are caught in a moment where the thing that breeds fear the most – uncertainty for the future – is everywhere and it is so easy to be swept up in that tide and become part of it.

Here’s the thing: it’s ok to feel uncertain and do weird things that make you feel better and have no rational explanation. We’re human. We don’t need to shame people for being afraid. But then take a moment to breathe and take a walk and pray. Process. Driving up here I called my sister and best friend and cried laughing at how crazy it all is, and felt immediately restored to myself. Ditto whenever I take a walk, hang out with friends, and pray. I’m paying attention to my body, and where it’s holding fear. And to my thoughts, and the ones that lead to panic I’m trying to lay down, while the ones that restore me to my better self I’ll seek out in the coming weeks. Community, prayer, nature, books. The good things are all still right there. The good news is too: we are loved, God is in his heaven, and this too shall pass.

There is a part of me that is hopeful that slowing down and families being together is actually what everyone really needs. It is a tragedy that it is taking people getting sick and dying to do it. But maybe when the tide of fear goes out, we’ll come out of this time surprisingly whole, and find treasures of community and caring and family memories left over, like seashells in the sand.

In the meantime, this scripture was the reading from early this week, and is pretty perfectly suited to these events. Thank you for reading this little corner of the internet, dear friends! I hope you all stay well. xo Katie

JER 17:5-10

Thus says the LORD:
Cursed is the man who trusts in human beings,
who seeks his strength in flesh,
whose heart turns away from the LORD.
He is like a barren bush in the desert
that enjoys no change of season,
But stands in a lava waste,
a salt and empty earth.
Blessed is the man who trusts in the LORD,
whose hope is the LORD.
He is like a tree planted beside the waters
that stretches out its roots to the stream:
It fears not the heat when it comes,
its leaves stay green;
In the year of drought it shows no distress,
but still bears fruit.
More tortuous than all else is the human heart,
beyond remedy; who can understand it?
I, the LORD, alone probe the mind
and test the heart,
To reward everyone according to his ways,
according to the merit of his deeds.