When I think about who I imagined spending the apocalypse with - I’m not sure it was these guys. I imagined being with my family (who fall in the ‘vulnerable’ category), my husband (not-yet existent), a group of my best friends on a remote bach (not organised enough). Instead, I am cooped up in a garage (pictured) navigating ZOOM calls in matching jumpers between a lawyer, teacher, videographer and the many stressed-out babies we share our driveway with. But I think I wouldn’t have it any other way. We’ve got the extro/intro ratio just right, space for cabin-fever induced meltdowns (of which I have had two), pallets outside to sunbathe on, iso-date night on Fridays, and most importantly for the first time in my young-adult life; enough time to experience being in purely one place and to actually call it home.
Before this, I could genuinely count the number of nights-in I've had at this flat on one hand. I would leave early in the morning for a pre-work coffee with a friend, and return after 11pm most nights. Either by impulse or habit, I kept myself busy making my life in as many places and spaces as I could outside of where I lay my head at night. So now, I am being forced to face the hurry. I am being asked to learn what it means to build space for a home and to actually enjoy it. What does it look like to purely exist in one space, to be present to those around you? To love well, and with intention? What is God’s heart for our homes?
So for this next instalment of your stories series, I asked our community where you are spending your time and what you make of the home you have found yourself in.
Here are your homes, CV! He waka eke noa.
There’s that famous saying “there’s no ‘i’ in team but 8 of them in every-single-one-of-my -flatmates-are-wonderful-and-I-don’t-think-I-would-be-able-to-cope-with-everything-happening-without-them.” They are the best little quarantine team. Without their encouragement and support I don’t think I’d be able to do my job well. They take care of me so that I can take care of others. I work on the frontline supporting families throughout their medical journey. It can be exhausting work. I’ve lost count how many times I’ve come home and just burst into tears. But they are always there for me. A shoulder to cry on, an ear to listen to, an encouraging word & prayer. I can’t express enough how much having that support means.
My intention for this time is to simply keep showing up. Put one foot in front of the other and support the patients and families I work with as best I can. God has this. We have a platform to show Jesus’ love in action and so that’s what I plan to do. PS. As Social Workers sometimes we use reframing techniques to look at situations from a different perspective. So I don’t see this time so much as a ‘lockdown’ period but rather as time for rāhui; reassessing and giving the environment and people time to heal.
- Rochelle
Home. More than a space, but a place imbued with meaning, emotions, experiences, history. A place I can be, and made to be, all that I am. It's where I meet with God alone. Rhythms of life happen here. It's been really interesting how, as things are ripped out from under us, I am far more aware spiritually. Sitting in my lounge, drinking a cup of tea, going for a walk, staring at the empty streets, doing the laundry. These ordinary, mundane things are now windows into another way of being. Bringing focus onto the things that really matter, Wairua Tapu is drilling deep into my heart. I see, hear, and feel an intense invitation to take up a new rhythm of life.
So this is my intention. A new rhythm. To embrace it with arms wide open. Honestly, I see no other way forward. I have been in the dealings of God this past week, in the best sense of the word, but I am spiritually and physically exhausted. Without going into detail, the things I am experiencing are so beyond me that I feel almost afraid. That idea of fearing God, that's the place I'm in at the moment. Not a scary fear, it's more of an overwhelming, reverent thing. As each day passes, there's a growing certainty in my heart that God's up to something that will be a marker in history. Could it be just something He's doing in me? Maybe, but I'm pretty sure it's far bigger than that. And I don't think it's just me thinking this, we as a community, we're all on the same waka in this. There's something in the air and we all know it!
- Mike
Over the past week, I’ve been struggling with the tension of giving myself the grace to feel grief, and not wallowing in the grief. But then I have to realise - it’s not everyday that a pandemic occurs and I need to allow myself to feel all the emotions. I have felt the pressure of having to be productive during this, but what I have been trying to focus on most is learning to sit at Jesus’ feet in this time of uncertainty. My soul has been loving the morning and evening liturgies with a cup of tea, and it has allowed me to centre myself in amongst the chaos.
- Katie
We are hunkering down in our home in Hillcrest. We are lucky that our lovely daughter and her (also lovely!) husband live next door, so we have an extended bubble of four. To us, home means getting away from the rush and busyness of what was normal life, and enjoying our little slice of New Zealand. It’s a place of calm and quiet, sun and birdsong. During this time we are planning on catching up on some sleep and some jobs that need doing but are always on the ‘if we only had time...’ list. We are exercising regularly and trying to eat healthily. It’s nice to have the time to cook properly. We are being more intentional at keeping in touch with people. We’re finding that people are being more open about how they are feeling and where they are at. We are very grateful for each other and for what we have. It is too easy to take these things for granted. We are mindful that we are very privileged and that others are not so fortunate. We are so grateful for how CV are adapting to these strange times, and keeping everyone connected and encouraged.
- Trish & Ron
These are some of my flatmates. I live with 6 other people in Epsom and until Sunday the 22nd 3 days before lock down I had only met them once. I scrambled to move in the Sunday before lockdown not knowing that this was where I would be hunkering down for a 4 week isolation. Knowing myself and my history with social anxiety this should have been a sobering thought but like most of us the days prior were spent being busy preparing for the coming weeks. Now a week in and new friendships formed I can say that this is my home and these are my family. We have laughed together, cried together, walked together, entertained each other, dined together, rested together. There is an abundance of experience still to be shared and lots to be learned about my new family no doubt but for now I rest in Him, thankful for the community he has blessed me with in this season. We have a few essential workers in this new family of mine so I find myself pondering how I might serve them as they serve us. How I might be a non anxious presence in this place, how I might sow into this home the seeds of peace, hope and love. As I isolate in this home - that is my work.
- Patty
One of the things I’ve found tricky with home offices is how easily work life overwhelms personal life, spatially and mentally. So, I shuffled the things I love doing in my spare time into one hovel - a work-free, me-time Xanadu all ready to go for lockdown/the apocalypse. All I need is a shotgun and bring on the zombies!
- Devon
We’ve always felt like this home was a gift to us from God; it’s availability at just the right time, its rent, location, spaciousness, rooftop. A gift too good to keep to ourselves, so we’ve always had this sense that though we live here, it’s not just ours, it is to be shared. So in the past six months, our door has been open to our Karangahape Road friends and to many of you. Maybe you’ve come to or performed at a house gig, or hosted a rooftop movie screening, maybe you’ve sat around our table for Sunday lunch or Pancake Friday’s, perhaps you’ve recorded something in Mark’s studio, or from the ‘balcony’ you’ve watched over K Road or even had Uber Eats delivered (thrown to you from the street below), or maybe you came to the one-hit-wonder that was Cross Street House Church.
This enforced pause makes us realise that YOU make this house a real home. We love having you around and we miss you already. It might be our names on the lease, but you have demonstrated such hospitality to us; you’ve shared your food with us around the table, your openness over a cup of tea, and your creative genius over a microphone or movie suggestion. Your flowers are still bringing colour and a lovely scent to the house.
But this time brings us a new gift. A chance to take those hospitality lessons you taught us, and apply them a little closer to home. There are four of us within these walls and I’m sure that over the coming weeks we are going to see each other a little clearer. That feels a bit daunting and revealing, I know my cracks are already starting to show. But there is a gift amongst the grit, to be seen and known, and to see and know. Honestly, who knows what 'home' will mean to me at the end of lockdown, but I’m hopeful that its boundaries will have been redrawn to encompass bigger ideas of hospitality and love that we have learned to show towards each other, and that we can extend to you when our door opens again.
- Ella
In usual circumstances I would be mortified to share this, but these last couple of weeks have taught me it’s ok to not have things perfect, enjoying the moments with the kids rather than following them around telling them to clean up has kept me sane. Grateful for this house and space we have - besides there’s plenty of time to clean up!
- Emma
I've lived next to Cornwall Park & Maungakiekie for 7 years. I don't have a back yard and my house is tiny, so now more than ever I realise the park is my home, so thankful that I can still visit my maunga every day.
- Carmi
While this is isn't my favourite ever photo of myself, it pretty perfectly captures where I am spending the majority of my time during this lockdown. I am a social worker in a primary school in Manurewa, and the social complexities that I work with day-in, day-out don't stop while the country is in lock down. My intention for this lockdown is to be as supportive and available for the whānau I work with as humanly possible. I'm not a doctor or a nurse, I can't heal the sick people, but I can use my role as a social worker to keep stability in the lives of the families that I work with by still showing up (even though that means showing up via a phone call).
- Abbey
This is me, I am going solo in my flat for lockdown. It is going to be hard and confronting. I am an extrovert, love being busy and struggle being by myself. I cried for most of the first day. Patrick asked a bunch of us over New Years what our word was for 2020, mine was stillness. I’m going to be honest, I have not embodied this word up until now. I didn’t even remember it was my word until four days into lockdown. I have a weird feeling that I am in the right place being by myself. God has already shown me that I have so much to be grateful for and to look for the beauty in my stillness. I love this city I get to live in, let’s keep it safe.
- Helen
This is my Sunday afternoon sleep spot. The best part of home at the best time of the day - a part I’m getting to see a whole lot more of. It doesn’t feel one hundred percent like home right now. I love my house and I love my family, but home for us is a full place, where people can come and go and eat and laugh, watch good and bad television together, and hold onto each other for a good cry. My home is one that I walk into never really sure of who will be sitting at the kitchen table. There’s an empty mug on my floor from the night before lockdown when my fiancé came over for a cup of tea, and I refuse to move it until he comes back to move it himself. It’s a hopeful little mug. A reminder of the other pieces and people that make home feel like home.
I used to write a lot of music, and then a whole lot of things happened that meant I didn’t want to, and by the time I did again, I didn’t know how to, so I filled my life up with other things. So I’m trying to make music again, which I know is something that God has been moving me towards for a long time. I’m trying to rest, which I’m traditionally terrible at, but my body has been learning how to stay asleep for longer over the last week or so. I’m trying not to eat my feelings which so far I’m also terrible at.
- Lydia
Isolation in my little dark flat was quite a daunting prospect. On day 2 I built - in the loosest sense of the word - this little spot where I can feel the sun on my face. It feels strange but nice to just use what I have, and find that it’s enough.
- Beka
Jonny and I feel very lucky to be living in iso in St Heliers. Living close to the beach means we are walking and swimming (2 metres from anyone else) as much as we can. We love our home and our community. We bump into friends on walks, and wander by their homes to have conversations from the balcony. We’re seeing our neighbours and getting to know them – from afar - more too. Every day starts with a long black with cream and most days we pair it with a freshly baked croissant. It’s fair to say there are some perks to this moment in time. We’re both still working a lot (now in separate rooms because we have very different preferences for a productive work environments…), which we know is a huge blessing. We are making our way through our Netflix list and playing board games; my love for Settlers of Catan has been a surprise. We miss spending time with friends and family but technology is good. We can’t wait to have people in our home again, whenever that may be.
- Siobhan