We are the shut-ins

     I grew up in a Pentecostal, Assembly of God church.  The pastor preached fire and brimstone, did an altar call after every service, and the congregation stood to testify.  People also made prayer requests which generally fell into two categories: special unspoken -- which my mom explained were very personal but I took to mean they just wanted attention, and prayers for the shut-ins-- who my mom described as people too old or too sick to come to church.  To my elementary school-aged mind, I figured if you wanted to go to church you would.  I didn't understand.

     Fast forward to 2020.  We're in the middle of a pandemic, and I've only been out of the house twice in the last 3 weeks.  I've been watching church online for longer than that.  I have zero immunity; my body just doesn't produce enough white blood cells.  Mingling with the general population was dangerous for me long before Covid-19 came into play.  Now, it could be a death sentence if I go out.
   
     I am a shut-in. 

     I am trapped, essentially under house arrest.  My oncologist has put me under lock down.  I'm only to go out for doctor appointments.  Last week, three of my doctors did my appointments over the phone.  My world is getting smaller.

     My husband is now working from home, and has established himself as sentinel: no one in and no one out.  He takes massive precautions to keep me safe.  He does the grocery shopping so I don't have to go out.  He unloads everything so I don't come in contact with germs.  He changes his clothes when he comes home to minimize my exposure.  He wipes down the door knobs and mailbox regularly.  When I do go out, I'm not allowed to touch anything.

     I am a shut-in.

     I finally understand those prayer requests.  It's hard to be cut off.  Physically and emotionally.  It's hard to want to be somewhere and not be able to go.  People's prayers can be a saving grace during that time.  You don't understand until it happens to you.

     Now a dangerous sickness is raging in our country, our state, our city.  Staying home is the safest thing we can do to protect ourselves and the ones we love.  Whole families are home together now since schools and businesses are closed down.  We all have nowhere to go.  There's nothing to do.

     We are all shut-ins now.

What the Eyes See

     I recently bought a book called "400 Writing Prompts".  I was thumbing through it this morning and came across this: "Do you think the eyes are the window to a person's soul? What does eye contact mean to you?"    Hmmm. Seemed simple at first, but as I think about it, it churns a lot within me.
   
     My early childhood was rough.  I learned to not be noticed, to not be seen.  I watched all that went on, but was quick to avert my eyes if someone looked my way.  If they made eye contact, then they would know I saw what happened.   As a result, I feel eye contact is extremely personal.  I avoid it in most circumstances.  It was such a problem in elementary and middle school that the teachers would send notes to my mom about it.  They thought maybe I was delayed, or just not understanding them.  I understood full well.  Their drawing attention to my lack of eye contact only made me not want to do it more.
   
     I avoid eye contact because in most situations, with most people, I don't care to share that much of myself with people.  I have a pretty good poker face.  I have learned coping skills throughout the years that enable me to keep my emotions in check. But my eyes? They betray me every time.  My eyes are green, but they change color when I am angry or, I loathe to say it, scared.  There's not a lot of people I have let close enough to notice that fact.  I guess now there will be more who notice.
   
    But here's the kicker.  As much as I dislike eye contact, I don't like talking to someone and not being able to see their eyes, especially if it is an important conversation.  I need to see their eyes to gauge their reactions, to see if they're being honest, to know if they understand.  I hate talking to someone who is wearing sunglasses!   I know it sounds like a double standard.  It's a protection mechanism.  I want to size them up, but I don't want to be sized up.  I want to see things in them but not be seen.

     So, yes.  The eyes are the windows to the soul.  They both see and show.