On Circling the Wagons

For frontier wagon trains, creating a protective perimeter

with the largest objects they had at hand provided some

measure of emotional and physical security.

It was known as "Circling the Wagons". Apart from times

of peril, it offered a feeling of control over environment,

a visual establishment of community, a circle of union.

This post will report on the mostly continual changes that are

occurring here, so that when we look back, we can remember

what it felt like to try to shoulder on against the onslaught!

* * * * *

But first, a weather report:

this past week the calendar indicated the "first day of Spring."

March offers alternating days of hope and gloom.

In the parking lot the maple trees hint at the color to come

with their reddish leaf buds.

Two days earlier, we woke up to Mother's Nature's

sense of humor, as seen out our deck window.

Warm enough air and soil to sprout crocus,

And along the river walk trail, the carpet of decaying leaves

is being pushed aside by colorful shoots.

The forest of trees will soon have their complement of

foliage to block the nourishing sun, but for now,

vines take advantage and get a head start on greening.

Oh, I'm looking forward to emerging into summer!

But 'til then, like the whole world, we circle our wagons. 

NHMM continues to adapt and function in the middle 

of this pandemic crisis. Change is constant as we share the need 

for protection and isolation, as well as the strengthening of

emotional and social ties. 

It seems like news-worthy datelines crawl across each day,

but one of major significance happened on Thursday, March 26.

NH Governor Sununu issued a "stay at home" order.

Guidance we were following from the Missionary Dept. 

now had the force of civil government.

As I prepared last week's post, our hearts were already

full as we waited for the inevitable -- sending home

two dozen young missionaries because of health concerns

that put them at higher risk, plus a couple of 21 month Elders.

We had a special Sunday (safe distance) meeting with these two,

serving as Spanish speaking Hermanas in the Manchester Ward.

They promised they would drop into the office on Monday

so we would be sure to see them before they were gone.

(Sisters Ladle and Green at Manchester airport.)

Sunday night late, they "attacked" our apartment door with 

hearts overwritten with sentiments of affection and caring.

(As a side note, we believe they may have also traveled

to the Auburn home of Sister Nicklaus and similarly attacked

her door - something very novel to her, and which impressed

and touched her husband particularly!)

By Tuesday morning, we learned they had traveled home

with flight plans arranged extraordinarily by their parents,

to get them out of harm's way. It seemed extreme, but . . .

. . . within hours, news was received about earthquakes

near Salt Lake airport. Soon aftershocks prompted new activity

from the Mission Dept. hedging against possible complicating 

airport closures. We received urgent word through Pres. and

Sister Beck that the Mission Dept. in SL was authorizing us

to enlist parents' help in the same way

for the remaining missionaries on the "at risk" list.

We each took a few names, and called parents with urgent

instructions to book flights for the next day, Wednesday.

During this scramble, I was asked to book two flights

for Sisters that I am very fond of - such a torrent of conflicting 

emotions, to urgently and efficiently assist them away!

The many who left will be represented by the few

who we could say good-bye to:

here are Sisters Hernandez, Stant and Van Wagoner. 

(On a forward-looking note, three new missionaries arrived

Fri. night, reassigned from Asia region, with more still

on the docket to come and serve with us in NHMM.)

Here is a posted picture of Elder Rice who we were able

to connect so completely with when he was assigned

to the Bedford Ward and could regularly visit the office.

He returned home through the Tucson airport. 

Now there's no chance to hear his homecoming report.

The final departure in this "batch" was Sister Gaunt,

from England. She was able, on Sunday, as part of

a mission-wide online devotional, to share her feelings

about her service, her commitment to sharing the Gospel,

and her struggle to turn this heart-wrenching change

over to the Lord, who has a plan and fulfills it with love.

With high priority to comfort and lead the missionaries even

as they learned about their fellows leaving, and as they

deal with the stay at home directives, this past week was 

filled with on-line meetings. One included a presentation by

the regional medical adviser Dr. Gatrell, who talked with calm

and good sense about the virus and how to take personal care

to reduce risks, and the need to get outside for exercise.

His words reassured me, certainly.

Another day, Dan Carter, a counselor who lives and works

within the mission, talked to the missionaries about practices

for dealing with the emotional ride as we shelter and

stay inside. His advice was also comforting and helpful.

 This image, below, is of Vince as we listened to a morning 
meeting from the kitchen area of our apartment.
Vince is my "rock" and remains 
[sometimes aggravatingly] positive and hopeful.
Given the choice to leave or stay (as essential office staff), 
we have received personal assurance to stay.
But in balance for safety, we are working fewer hours each day
in the office, and also trying to skip alternate days. 
(Not quite sure how we will explain the "essential" nature
of our work, under the stay at home directive.)

As I have rolled and plunged emotionally, I keep trying

to find the "good" in these novel situations.

The "Polyanna" effect is a phrase I like, so I guess I was

hunting along those lines. I'm sure life will change because of

what started in earnest for us this final week in March.

A down-note is my reaction now to the "threat" posed

by simply encountering the apartment building door knob,

one of the few community surfaces we must touch each day.

I wonder how long it will take to become "normal" again.

A small glimmer is that we were home late one morning

to spy the friendly cardinal visiting Vince's deck feeder.

(It felt like "good luck", but I wish he'd come 'round 

to this side!)

 On some level, I am analyzing my reactions, and comparing
to those of the humans around me. We didn't dash out,
for instance, to pick up a disproportionate amount of
toilet paper. Yet when I heard that the "only essential" businesses
restriction would NOT allow the craft stores to stay open,
I risked a trip for supplies so I can feed my creative needs.
This image below, represents the protective "gear" that
the Manchester Hobby Lobby had arranged for mutual benefit:
a vinyl barrier between clerk and customer!

We learn constantly about the miracles occurring here as 
teaching and invitations to "come unto Christ" continue, 
through inventive, creative ways. (I'll share more another time.)
Stories abound regarding helpful folks who share and serve,
comfort and medically treat. Cooperation seems to be alive and well.
(Of course, there remains much doom and gloom from network news.)
But my lamp has been filled by so many, from those reaching
to check in with isolated son Cory in Lehi, to testimonies
from dozens of young missionaries, to online comments
from positive-thinking nieces or friends from ward families.

I received particular strength hearing the voice of our
physician Prophet, with encouragement to call upon God
for comfort and guidance. Words that helped me
remember why we are here.
Sending our prayers for protection to the imperiled,
comfort to the worried, succor to the weary.
May your filled lamps help light the way through.