The next morning after the relocation, I went into the kitchen, poured my milk, and walked over to the cabinet where I’d kept my breakfast for so long. As soon as I opened the door, I remembered they had a new home, so I walked over to the big snack drawer and retrieved my breakfast. I’d like to tell you that from that morning forward I headed straight for the big snack drawer, but I’d be lying. Even a couple of weeks later, I’d find myself opening the cabinet or, at least, headed for the cabinet before I’d stop myself. It takes some longer than others to break a habit. And for some us, it takes a whole lot longer. 

After I had my hysterectomy, I found myself getting into bed early and reading or watching something on my iPad for three or four hours before actually going to sleep. I’d never done that before, but I was wiped out by that time of day and it felt good to stretch out and relax with some Prime Video or a book. Even after I was completely recovered, I still found myself headed to bed at the same time for my nightly Bible reading, TV episodes, blogging, magazine flipping, or whatever. It had become something I looked forward to doing at the end of each day. Well, it’s a little over two years later and I’m still lying in bed by 8 with my pillows and books and iPad. I suppose my wheels have settled in this rut and are going to follow it for a while. 

They say it takes around 21 days to form a new habit and about 66 days for the behavior to become automatic- like automatically walking to the wrong cabinet for longer than I’d care to admit. Well, we’ve been at this social distancing thing for about 9 months now and knowing how quickly we fall into a routine habit and how hard they die once they’re in place, I’m a little worried about us, frankly. 

I pray we don’t find this solitude to be habit-forming. I want us to keep the hunger for warm hugs and firm handshakes. I want our longing for large parties, big crowds and huge celebrations to be too gnawing to ignore. I want to find us back at the place where we feel unrestrained in how we love and grieve and support and celebrate and minister to each other. I don’t ever want the fear of holding hands or blowing out birthday candles or kissing grandma to become a permanent mindset. I don’t want us to get used to these masks making friendly conversation more of a frustration than a joy. I pray we don’t get all settled into our homes and start to believe it is our only place of protection. I hope we don’t shop from the safety of solitude to the detriment of our stores. I hope we aren’t learning to abandon the practice of smiling while it seems futile behind these cloth barriers. I don’t want six feet to become the permanent measure by which we assess our comfort around others. I hope we don’t grow comfortable with the presence of barriers between us. I pray we don’t ever find ourselves believing that watching church is a satisfactory substitute for gathering with other Christians to worship and be loved. 

Probably like you, I’m ready to get back into life. I don’t want this “new normal” to ever seem normal to us. I want to stand in a crowded elevator, sit in a a sold out theater, and yell for my team in a packed stadium with spit flying everywhere like the good old days. I’m ready to pay a call to some elderly friends and sit close to them while we talk. There are people I just want to grab around the neck and plant big kisses on their cheeks. There are babies I want to hold. Songs I want to sing with a choir. Homes I want to visit. Trips I want to take. This is not the place where I want to get comfortable. 

I pray we don’t let all these barriers condition us to believe we don’t need others or that we’re not needed by others. We can’t let our wheels get stuck in the rut of isolation. We have to fight any inclination to settle into this way of living for the long term. This is not the cabinet we want to keep going back to over and over. Until we can return to that place where we all long to be, it’s the perfect time of year to reach out to people we love and remind them that they are not forgotten by us. People need to hear that they’re treasured and we need to stretch our social muscles, so it’s a great match. 

Take a load off, but don’t get too comfy here. We’re not staying long. We still have a lot of work to do and a lot of love to give. In the meantime, let’s do what we can from where we are. 

Night-