it's quiet here 81/366

I don't know what it's like where you are,
perhaps you are in a hotbed of confusion
or on the front line of the battle that is raging around us

but it's quiet in my life
for the past week it's been building, unobtrusively, but surely nonetheless
it's the kind of quiet that is loud,
the kind of quiet I can feel deep down inside my bones
not eerie, but definitely unnatural

I hear it everywhere:
in my house,
outside as I walk, feed the dogs, sit on the porch or work in the yard, 
at the gas pump when I filled my tank
in the store when I grabbed a few groceries earlier this week
in the drive through when I got iced coffee yesterday 
as I drove to church and when I unloaded cleaning supplies today

it is almost as if everything around me is holding its breath, waiting
for spring?
for direction?
for the unseen to be exposed?
for the unknown to be explained?
for a more complete "bunker down"?
to see if we, in this small town in Northeastern KY, have dodged the bullet?

when the "all clear" comes 
I hope the healthy part of this quiet remains
I hope hand washing and good hygiene are normal habits
I hope families are stronger and more unified
I hope people keep looking for encouraging or funny things to post on social media
I hope churches continue to be the church outside of the buildings
I hope we value our freedoms and share our abundance 
I hope we come out on the other side of COVID-19 people changed for the better
I hope we don't fall into the habit of taking normal, everyday, ordinary life for granted