Refined by Fire

Yesterday I remembered how much I love a long, good, in-person conversation with a friend. This is definitely one of my top all-time favorite activities. I simultaneously realized how much I've been deprived of this the past couple months.  I thought I had everything I needed. I have a husband for companionship (also good to talk to), a cute cat, food, access to a walking trail nearby,  and lots and lots of yarn. I even recently got set up so that I don't even have to go to the post office to ship crochet orders. Thanks to technology, I can resume my little side business and be quite productive without ever leaving my home. While some of my friends and family members have been visiting one another, braving the grocery stores, and a few even working in "the real world" out of necessity, I have been almost completely quarantined. I haven't even been inside a grocery for weeks, thanks to delivery and pick-up options. It's been a convenient excuse to totally succu

What's been on my mind lately is the 1971 film adaptation of Fiddler on the Roof ( Free on Amazon Video if you have a Prime membership, by the way).   I watched the film several times as a kid, so like many, was already familiar with the songs and plot. We even sung the songs in a music concert at my elementary school one year (I was one of the "daughters" in the song "Tradition.") A few weeks ago, I watched it again, the first time as an adult. I was really struck by how profound and beautiful this film and its message is, something I wasn't yet mature enough to pick up on as a child. Of course the film centers on the rich Jewish religion, culture, and tradition of a small Russian community. As a modern Christian, I'm relating to the film and its messages in a different way. Despite our religious differences with Jewish people, I think there is a lot Christians can learn and appreciate here too. First off, can we just all just fall in love with Tevye

It's funny to remember that I thought the hard part was 6 weeks ago.  The new rules, restrictions, limits on freedom, and adjusting to a totally new way of life. If we could just get through these stay-home-orders, then some normalcy will resume. Then we can breathe a little. For myself and also probably for many others, I've been in a psychological survival mode, only allowing myself a very minimal scope of vision for the future. All the days beyond May 8th, the official day the stay-home order for Colorado is lifted, have been blacked out on the calendar. It was just too much to try to predict where we'd be by then, anyways. 6 weeks ago, restaurants, small businesses, and schools everywhere were forced to close at a moment's notice, and everyone was sent into a tailspin panic practically over night. Therefore, it felt silly to try to gauge what things would be like at the end of lockdown-- anything could happen.  Predictably, there has been a lot of noise. Arguing. St