I think during the quarantine (or social distancing or social isolation or whatever we have agreed to call it), we all have a day that we feel especially disappointed.

Today I was supposed to wake up in The Woodlands, Texas. I was to stand as a sponsor for my parents as they joined the Catholic Church. (I know, right?!).

But here I am, at home in Arizona with my crazy family of seven, hiding eggs in the backyard. It has been a beautiful Lent. I’ve felt incredibly close to my children. I’ve been moved to tears by the world rallying around priests, healthcare workers, truckers, and food service employees. But today it came to a crashing halt.

I miss my parents. I miss my grandmother. I feel an urgency to see them and hug them. I sat in my chair in the backyard and laughed at the ability of an egg hunt to perfectly display my children’s personalities, very grateful for the distraction.

Sebastian, perfectly content to find the trampoline all to himself, while everyone else ran around gathering eggs.

Riley, focused and determined to gather every egg as quickly as possible.

Mary Alice, excitedly filling up her basket, but pausing to talk to everyone who called.

It really was a beautiful day, but to those of you who felt the weight of disappointment that we haven’t woken up from this strange nightmare, I see you and I understand. I want you to know that it is okay if today did not have all of the “supposed tos” and “shoulds”.

I want you to know that it is okay to know deep in your soul that Jesus is alive and you will be with Him again someday, but at the same time to feel confused and sad about the pain in this world.

I want you to know that this earth will fade away and we will feel no more sadness and no more tears and no more hurt, but that day was not today and you don’t have to pretend that it was.

We can lean on Him and rest our weary heads and take a day to just be. His joy will be our strength. It will. It is. But He knows sadness and pain, too. He loves you so much, dear one. He will come to our rescue and I will see my parents and grandparents again. But just remember, it is our soul he is rescuing, not our “should-have-beens”.