THIS UNBEARABLE HOLIDAY: FOCUSSING | DAVID BRACEWELL

“You will not fear the terror of the night,

or the arrow that flies by day

or the pestilence that stalks in darkness

or the destruction that wastes at noonday.”

Psalm 91.5,6

Lock down is an unpleasant phrase, but then so is the experience it describes as we all try to hide away from Covid-19. The word I use in my head for the virus is pestilence. “The pestilence that stalks in darkness” has a sinister feel, but is very expressive. What we are experiencing of course is not pestilence and certainly not a plague. The bubonic plague of 1665 killed a quarter of the population of London, and the pestilence that visited the Derbyshire village of Eyam in the spring of the following year killed 80% of its inhabitants.

Nonetheless the enemy we are facing is a killer and has great power to disrupt and disturb, physically, economically, socially and mentally. I know it doesn’t rank as a major issue, but I have become quite alarmed by my mood swings. The daily swing has become an hourly one and is often quite extreme. At 9 am I can hardly summon the energy to make a cup of tea but then by 11.15 am I’m planning the next book I intend to write. This morning Psalm 30 was on my devotional menu. Verse 15 reads: “Heaviness may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning.” I have a reverse experience, waking up heavy but with a bit of joy seeping in by late morning. It’s all very weird. Or it was until I read an article about brain fog.

First the days seem to blur into one, weekdays being indistinguishable from weekends….Suddenly small tasks look like insurmountable feats and that long list of things you were going to achieve and people you were going to contact in lockdown taunts you as you flop from one chore to the next. Does anyone else feel inexplicably bone tired from barely moving?

The American writer, Rebecca Solnit, says we will come through this crisis with a transformed sense of ourselves. I hope she’s right. I get the brain fog thing, but for me there are other issues because my mood swings are fed by a natural restlessness born of years of pushing myself on to the next thing or the next bright idea. I must have been a nightmare as a vicar constantly burdening my congregation with another project. Over the years Sue has urged me to live a day at a time and I’ve never really heeded, and now in lockdown she is content and I am twitchy. Chickens are coming home to roost.

This gift of focus is precious and, as I’m discovering, has to be nurtured. Earlier Christian writers called it “the sacrament of the present moment.” A contemporary writer says, “Living in the past or the future is easy. Living in the present is like threading a needle.” So can I win a small battle against the pestilence by letting its effects reshape my thinking? I’ve been trying.

It’s evening as I write and I’ve been looking back over the day, this never to be repeated day that God has given. It began with an impoverished breakfast because we had run out of milk, but that was no hardship. I did some watering in the back garden, especially the tiny patch Sue has given me to grow a “butterfly garden.” It’s so exciting to see some green shoots thrusting through the earth. “How long will it take for the flowers to come?” I ask. “Be patient” was the reply. There I go again, anxious for the future to arrive. Then a bit of piano practice during which the grandchildren appeared at the window, technically wanting to chat but actually waiting for some sweets to appear.

At the same time Hector and Monty walked by with cards they had designed. Wonderful crayoning with the message: “To Sue and David with love from Hector and Monty.” They are delightful three year old twins from up the road who, with their parents, walk passed our house most days. We love to see them. The pestilence thought it would separate us, but lockdown is forging new relationships. At 4pm we debunked to our caravan on the driveway to eat breakfast, milk stores having been replenished. Our daughter caught us at it and thought it was hilarious and just a bit sad. She took a picture which, by now will be circulating on social media. In the evening we watched the first episode of a re-run of Series 1 of Downton Abbey. A new experience for me. I think I could be hooked. So I have tried to focus on this day. I’ve tried to stay in the present, to thread the needle, to celebrate each new experience. I’ve really enjoyed it! Another nail in the coffin of the pestilence.

The Psalmist puts the banishment of the pestilence in the context of the overarching care of a God who doesn’t usually take hard things away, but gives us resources to cope and to rejoice.

“You who live in the shelter of the Most High,

who abide in the shadow of the Almighty…

will not fear the terror of the night…

or the pestilence that stalks in darkness.”

Psalm 91.5,6

Living in the present moment is most of all about focussing on the presence of our loving Father who says, “I will never leave you, nor forsake you.”

“Give us today, O God,

A glad heart and a clear conscience,

That when we may come to this day’s end

We may rest in peace with Christ our Lord.”