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On recovering from Covid.

It’s eight weeks today since I first tested positive for covid. 2021 heralded our 29th Christmas as Corps officers and we were ready for a break. Christmas Day has always felt a bit like our finishing line, and the following days, including the middle Sunday, have always been our time. For family For pj days For rest. So you can imagine how thrilled we were when it was the fourth consecutive period of time off that I’d become ill. This time with covid. Maybe I should have got the message before now? I’m not great at switching off, though I try. We have days off, but they are often interrupted. Instead  I saw in the new year asleep in my bed with a hacking cough. And now? I’m half way through two weeks off sick with ‘covid complications’. The last few weeks have been tough. Historically I have episodes of depression, and when the fear strikes I have to remind myself, as my Dr did, that the way I feel is classic Covid/Omicron, and the only way through is to rest. I miss people. I miss my
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My husband

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Chris is 60 today. I know! He was 22 when we met, and I was 16. It took him a whole year to ask me out. Something to do with the age difference. And here we are, thirty-eight years later, with three sons, one daughter-in-law, and a dog. So what can I tell you about Chris? He’s kind. Funny. Fiercely loyal. He puts us, his family, first. Every time. He loves people. Really loves them. His ability to speak to anyone, from all walks of life, is enviable. He has, had, Incredible energy, enthusiasm and a zest for life. COVID-19, then long-covid has completely floored him since March 2020. But he’s done the research, put the hours in, and  we see him smile, laugh, blub, look for post-boxes he can leap-frog over, and we see him being restored. He’s not the same as he was. But the essence of Chris is clear as day to those who take the time to see. I asked a few people about Chris recently. Kind and caring were in the top ten. “The world would be a much darker place without him in it.” And my pe
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Ssssh! It happens.

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It’s our first day back at work today. I may have mentioned the small matter of a wedding in the family… The thing is that I have a really nasty cough. I’ve had three covid tests but am awaiting the results of a fourth, just in case. It started the day after the wedding. Then got progressively worse until now it sounds like I smoke forty a day. Life doesn’t always go to plan does it? At least mine rarely does. This last week when I should have been off, I’ve been caught up with work stuff that took a lot of time and energy. Ssssh! It happens sometimes. I have strong boundaries but this got through regardless. So today I’m sat resting and coughing. Yesterday we were at Clacton celebrating Joel’s birthday on our day off. As Chris and I escaped the noise of the pier, I felt God call me to the waters edge. Not for a swim, but to stay at the edge. And as I waited, I found treasure. One of the biggest pieces of sea glass I’ve ever seen.  I’m reminded that like sea glass, we are tossed about
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I got a certificate!

I haven’t received many awards in my life. As you know, our house is full of trophies, mainly football, but hardly any belong to me. So, this week, I was thrilled to receive a certificate. Especially as I didn’t know it was coming. I’ve spent four afternoons on Zoom over the past few weeks. There were ten of us all together. All leaders in The Salvation Army. All living in different parts of the country. All meeting for training on grief. The title of the course was Faith, Grief and Covid-19. It was to be a conversation, as much as training.  I signed up for it, because, over the past month or so, I’d recognised grief within myself. I wanted to know how to deal with it, so I could hopefully help others who are grieving too. One thing we realised, quite early on, is that we are all grieving. Covid-19 has taken so much from us: Loved ones, friendships, and the way we live our lives. We’ve faced separation, isolation and loneliness of one kind or another. This morning, as I woke again, wi
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Lockdown 3: Day 4

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“Just because we can, doesn’t mean we should.” It’s a phrase that keeps coming back to me at the moment. As leaders we’ve had to make some tough decisions this week. Places of worship are allowed to hold services, under the terms of this lockdown. But I still felt unsure. The risks felt high, and while I felt deeply for those for whom meeting for worship is a lifeline in their loneliness, we made the decision as a team, not to meet. It was a really hard decision, but now that Public Health Essex have asked places of worship not to open, it is the right one. Just because we can doesn’t mean we should. I had a similar dilemma today. It’s been six days since my last swim. That’s a long time in my world. Guidance is that we can travel for exercise, but it doesn’t say how far. The paddling pool would just freeze at the moment, so that’s not an option. The upshot was that Chris, Daisy and I traveled a short distance so I could swim, and they could walk. I think Chris recognised some of the s
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Lockdown 3: Day 2

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It's interesting that yesterday was designated rude-words day;  then today, always #WhingingWednesday around these parts, dawned unnoticed until well after lunch. Maybe there's something about sitting with how you feel for a while, after all? It's worked for me anyway. I went to bed last night, relieved that tough decisions had been made, so I slept soundly and woke feeling content. Admittedly, I was a little jealous of a generous snowfall, where we used to live. But I smiled at the pictures, and set off to work on foot. The next few days, we have agreed, will need to be an unhurried assessment of the situation. No panicking. Just looking at what is, and seeing not only what needs to be done; but what needs to be done by us, by our church, by me. As I walked home, being on foot meant I could stop and do some doorstep visits, share some prayers, and make some phone calls.  A highlight was a little boy on his bike whose eyes lit up when he saw me. "Mummy it's Amanda!
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Lockdown 3: This time it’s personal.

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Today has been designated a rude word day. Well, in my mind, anyway. Life stinks. There’s no getting away from it. Historically, when we have gone into Lockdown of one kind or another, the first 24 hours is one of extremes.  We knew it was coming, but still feel blindsided. There have been tears. Lots of tears. And a few tantrums if I’m honest. I think it’s important to go with it. For me, anyway. Pretending things are ok when they’re clearly not, is a strategy I’ve been familiar with in the past. But it’s not a good one. At least, it’s never worked for me. So today has been mainly about facing reality. “Life is poo, so sing about it” (paraphrase mine). I offer these thoughts in the hope that you may relate, but it’s not a promise to blog every day as in previous lockdowns. We’ll see how it goes. I do however want to send you my love, and my prayers for today, and the days that lie ahead. ‘No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love
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