Everything bows to changes

Life goes on, but differently

In homage to a world made strange (to be read out loud, if possible): There is a puzzle shortage. Families huddle over tables deep into the night, lamps tipped to light the evening devotional.

Each day a family takes a walk together. Not the rush and sweat of soccer season, but the slower and steady practice of love.

Sewing machines crawl out from cabinets and closets and needle their way into masks. On the list of things not seen coming — the great elastic shortage of 2020.

The humans take their cue from the canines and howl the evening away. The canines join them. The bears take note.

The great majority of humanity changes course, slows down, changes their daily lives, so others might live more days.

Little Free Libraries become Little Free Pantries. Little Free Pantries multiply. Like the loaves and fishes, barbecue shacks turn the leftovers into baskets of extra.

The government prints money from nowhere and deposits it in bank accounts.

ICE detainees make the long drive from Louisiana to Northwest Arkansas. They cry joyfully with their families and return to the only home they’ve ever known.

Finally, via Zoom, we meet each other’s pets in their natural environment, appreciate the clutter of our daily leavings. Even Oprah keeps a messy pile of books in her corner mansion.

After many years of prayer and advocacy, the sheriff finally takes a pandemic as sufficient political cover to end the unjust 287-g program. Immigrant communities breathe a sigh of relief.

The rich rake in more riches, hiding behind the cover of disaster. Then the disaster reveals even their vast immorality. The world is a prophet.

Eight hundred humans in the Washington County Jail in February. In April, fewer than 400. Fewer bodies held in cells. More imaginations tipped toward alternatives to incarceration.

Each of us learns in our own way to see that eyes themselves smile.

Teachers prove once again they are heroes. So also nurses and doctors. And this time even the pizza delivery person’s halo is revealed. Here stands glory.

A mother sets out chalice, paten, bread, wine on footstool, living room table. A child trips over scattered toys, breaks a piece, dips it, and mumbles, “Jesus.”

Ramadan stays home this year. Taraweeh turns isolation into inner peace, a spiritual retreat.

There is no Easter. Easter is everywhere, just early and patient as earth. The Rev. Clint Schnekloth is lead pastor at Good Shepherd Lutheran Church in Fayetteville. He blogs at www.patheos.com/blogs/clintschnekloth or email him at perichoresis2002@mac.com.