Anxiety Preparation
MEGAN MASON
In a sense, the anxiety I have experienced throughout most of my life has prepared me for this moment. In my head, I would dream up scenarios such as this, so this pandemic seemed inevitable. When COVID-19 hit, while it became harder to not let those fears consume me, I also felt prepared because this anxiety that most people are experiencing right now is my normal, everyday life.
I can remember “the moment before the moment” as Rob Bell once said on his podcast. I had planned an amazing trip with my friend to Chicago to see “The Bachelor: Live,” and we had a fancy hotel booked and delicious dinner plans set. A few days before the event, seeing COVID taking over much of the West Coast and NYC, we decided to cancel our plans and take a road trip instead. We drove to visit Eastern Illinois University, which is where we went to college. Charleston isn’t a big town, but you typically see many people out and about. This time it was different; the campus was absolutely empty. We walked around and shared memories of college along with our fears about what our lives were going to look like from now on. How in the world were we going to live through this? How are our kids going to be after all this? And how were we going to accept that we were now our kids’ teachers? It all didn’t feel real.
Then the next week hit, and we were given the Shelter-in-Place order. We had to sit down and explain to our kids that they could no longer hug their grandparents. They could no longer go to their schools and see their friends. They couldn’t even play with our next-door neighbors. We were introduced to Zoom and Google Hangouts and the wild world of E-learning. At one point my son broke down in tears saying, “I just want to SEE my friends, mom. I don’t want to see them on video anymore.” I always hear the phrase “kids are resilient,” but they truly are. I will always cherish the photo my neighbor took of our kids sitting in chairs, six feet away from our property line, having lunch together and talking. They found ways to “play” without being near each other.
Things got a bit better once we went into Phase 3 because we opened up our circle to some family and let the kids play outside with a few neighbors. We had our own little outside quarantine crew, and the kids were ecstatic — but with that, fear crept in. Every time we would see family, I was fearful we would get them sick. Every time my kids coughed or sniffled, I would check their temperatures, fully knowing we all suffer from seasonal allergies, and it was most likely that. Whenever I would go pick up food locally or have to go into a store, I would fear everything. Touch nothing. Trust no one. Don’t talk.
After getting through some of that fear, we became a little more lenient and started to go more places, as long as they were outside and we could easily distance ourselves. We learned quickly that while our family was pretty careful, many people in town were not, so we had to close ourselves off a bit. My kids learned how to wear masks. As soon as we felt more comfortable again, the murder of George Floyd happened and the protests that followed. And then two people who were very near and dear to me passed away. Once again, my fears and anxieties came back. I wondered how my children were going to live in a world such as this? How am I going to talk to them about all this while also easing their anxieties because of the pandemic? It just all seemed too much.
And of course, as someone that identifies as a Christian, I asked myself where was God in all this? That was and still is the million-dollar question. But now, as I’m writing this and looking back at the past several months, I see God:
When my friend and I shared our fears on that empty college campus.
When Job and I broke down in tears together because the world as we knew it was changed.
When we finally figured out how to learn at home. And when school finally ended, giving us time to breathe and accept this new world.
When we discovered Animal Crossing.
When a musician we love started doing a weekly show online and kept our spirits up.
When I talked to my therapist and spiritual director over Zoom and was able to express my fears to someone not in the house.
When my friend and co-counselor Tate found a way for all of his camp family to be reunited this summer in the parking lot outside of his visitation.
When the camp I work at was cancelled, but we had a “virtual campfire” that brought together a church family that had once split.
When I found a slip-n-slide for cheap and it provided hours of fun and many dead grass spots in our yard.
During our nightly movie nights where we would watch old Disney Channel movies and I would still remember all the words to “My Supernova Girl.”
When I finally stopped feeling guilty for screen time because it was what we needed some days.
During Lucy’s workouts she would make me do every night because she “wanted us to be strong.”
When my kids would be playing outside, and I had quiet time to sit, read, or study.
When I would enjoy a warm cup of coffee on the porch each morning just listening to the sounds outside.
God was with everything and in everything. As far as my faith, I feel like it has gotten stronger. I have had to release those expectations of showing up to church each week and checking off the “Good Christian” scorecard. Some days, I see half of the service because there is a wrestling match going on, and I need to referee. Some days I find myself half listening because my brain won’t shut off. And some days I’m fully engaged. And it all belongs. God is in all those moments.
Megan is currently a stay at home mom to her children, Job and Lucy. Along with that, she also is a camp counselor at the Anglican Church Camp of Illinois where she helps lead both campfire worship and evening activities. She enjoys reading a million books at one time, playing the ukulele, spending time with her family, and traveling, when there is NOT a pandemic. Her journey to Imago has been a hard but beautiful one and she is so grateful for this community.