Tag: Pandemic

Christianity: My Journey & Thoughts, Ponderings

The Neighbor with the Upside Down Flag

Peregrine Arc: An Author's Scratchwork

We have a neighbor who displays a magnet of an American flag on the side of his mailbox. He’s had it upside down (a signal of distress) for the past several months with one date written on it in black marker: 1-6-2021. January 6, 2021, the date of the Capitol insurrection and riot. I look at it every time I return home into our neighborhood. I think “There is at least one person who remembers and doesn’t have convenient amnesia.”

Convenient amnesia. I was in a store the other day and someone came in asking “Do we have to wear a mask, even if we’re vaccinated?” I left this customer to the underpaid workers to deal with, but read the sign on the way out. Clearly it said masks required; very simple, concise English with a picture of a mask. Clearly this man was “special” and above the rules constantly changing, not on his terms. And yes, in case you were wondering: we were masked. And we managed not to sprain our wrists putting on the masks. That must be what everyone is afraid of. Repetitive movement injury.

America is not doing very well in the pandemic, and that is quite possibly the understatement of the century. Children are being hospitalized and dying; hospitals are banding together quite literally and begging everyone to get vaccinated. One in five hundred Americans have died from Covid. And yet, even as hospitals overflow and patients have to play Russian roulette in finding a hospital that will admit them…people don’t seem to care here. They want their naked faces proudly on display, their comfortable routines back, nipped and tucked into regularity and comfort. They don’t care about their fellow neighbor; they want to not suffer any longer.

People do not know how to suffer, or how to suffer well. As Christians, this is part and parcel of what it means to follow Jesus. The here and now, your present life, is a blip on a page that extends into eternity–either with God, or without God. He always leaves the choice to us.

If you’re like the saint and I, and are wondering what in God’s green earth is going on–know that you’re not alone. God allows suffering to draw us closer to Him; to build resiliency, to sharpen our faith…the list of His reasons go on and may be hidden from us until after die. The important thing, as Paul said, is to continue to walk with God and with humility. To suffer alongside Him, to not chase after the fool’s gold of this world as the fool’s will insist. He will not abandon those who love Him.

Short Stories & Poetry

I Walked Into a Room

Peregrine Arc: An Author's Scratchwork

I walked into a room today
Inside there were many windows, looking out into other places far away.
But their imagery was so clear and pristine,
I might’ve walked inside and joined them.

In one room, hexagonal in shape, were two oxen
yoked together, pulling at each other, striving to knock the other down.
They trampled their partner, knifing one another with their hooves.
The yoke split and harpooned
Casting a bloodied silhouette of victory onto the wall.
I left, easing myself away from the entry way.
As the bloodied beast passed me by.



Brief Humor & Check-Ins

Dusty Corners & Humility (Humor)

Peregrine Arc: An Author's Scratchwork

I’ve been wandering around the dusty corners of life, keeping my corner of the universe as tidy as I can, re-adapting to the daily commute and being back in an office environment full of gaggling coworkers and a few non-gaggling ones as well. I was luckily able to work remotely during the pandemic, but now it’s all hands on deck, Delta variant be darned apparently. My colleagues are generally nice people, and a few I like more than others, but this introvert cannot handle gaggling-giggling-goggling nonsense for more than a few hours when working. Then it’s just time to break out Green Eggs & Ham, join the Ministry of Silly Walks and call it a day. I work better alone in my quiet writing room, in other words. But one can adapt. Eventually, I’ve heard.

I took a phone call at work the other day, week, month (what is time?). On the other end of the line was a very prestigious person. Like, sparkly titles, important looking framed papers with random Latin, shiny pieces of metal strung with ribbons that make your neck itch–that kind of thing. It was the first time I had spoke to said person, and I was helping them complete a project: “Do this, not that. No, that goes there; yes you’ve done it now. No, no you fool! Oh, it’s a disaster now; we’ll have to start over. Did wild hyenas raise you? Give it here…just turn off your monitor and go home.”

While I asked questions to help them, they confessed something that struck me: “I’m not sure about many things” the caller said with a jovial, laissez faire chuckle. If this had been a comedy sitcom, that’s where I would have turned in my dainty chair and did a perfectly timed disbelieving blink, staring aghast into the camera lens. Then the audience would have roared and applauded, and the sitcom would have moved on to another scene.

“That’s a cut, Mrs. Author. Well done! Now, we’ll rehearse the scene where they give you a project that’s due in less than twenty four hours. Short notice is always such a hoot!”

This being real life, I instead quickly recovered myself, grabbed the football and ran it down to the end zone, post haste. Then I tossed the football down and did a lively dance, remembered I hate football analogies, and hung up. We got the project done. Six points for us, and here’s the question for the extra field goal point:

Do any of us actually know what we’re doing? You kick and…we wait for the answer.