On a regular Sunday morning, David gets up early and leaves the house early. He’s the open-up guy at church. He gets there long before anyone else, turns on the lights, checks the climate controls (which are pretty much automatic), fills some coffee pots, and then waits in the foyer to let in early arrivers, like the musicians and singers. I don’t get to church really early, but, the older I get, the longer it takes to straighten up and put away things in my Preschool Sunday School room, and then put out supplies and equipment for that Sunday’s time. I might need to trade out puzzles, laminate something, use the large paper cutter in the Resource Room to cut and trim things, and fold up the previous weeks paintings, now dry, and put them in kid’s cubbies, to be sent home.

That’s a normal Sunday. I’m rather looking forward to a normal Sunday, and hope one comes along in my lifetime.

Last Sunday, we just didn’t quite know what to do. David got up and read the Sunday paper. I got up and checked e-mail and did an online crossword puzzle and waited until 9:00, when the pharmacy at Target opens up. I went over there and asked for a prescription to be renewed. Then, I wandered over to the toilet paper aisle, just to see what the situation was. There was a sign that said “One to a customer.” Many folks were hauling around large 12-roll packages in their carts. Even though I’d checked our supply and found it plentiful, I went ahead and got a 4-roll package, just because it seemed as though I should. Our local Target has a limited amount of fresh food, and things were looking rather sparse there, but, otherwise–pretty normal.

We’d gotten e-mails from church saying that the staff decided to not open the church on Sunday, wanting to be careful of the health of us all. But, we could worship together, at home, with Facebook Live. At 10:45, there would be a check-in time, and then, at 11:00, we’d have a brief worship time together. It worked. As a congregation, we watched and listened, together, a sermon, a prayer, a blessing. All from our preacher’s living room. And, as everyone signed on, we could see their names popping up, as we prepared to worship together. Not quite as good as being together, but almost.

We’ll be doing church that way again in a couple of days, and, possibly, probably, for a few more, or many more, Sundays.

Meanwhile, the HEB grocery store has shortened their store hours, to provide additional stocking time for all those shelves that are being emptied so quickly. The store now opens at 8:00 a.m. and closes at 8:00 p.m. I’d seen, in the newspaper, a photo of a long line of people, standing behind grocery carts, waiting for the store to open. They did seem to be quite patient; maybe they were just posing for the camera.

Wednesday, I drove to the post office to drop off several envelopes (feeling sorry for the mail carrier, and wanting to lighten his load a little bit). On my way back home, I drove by the HEB. It was about 8:30 a.m. I was quite flabbergasted. I had never, never, ever seen the like. The parking lot was entirely full. Every parking slot had a car in it. Astonishing.

I did make a foray into HEB on Thursday, late afternoon, hoping to find eggs. I was surprised to see lots and lots of fresh food; and I purchased some. There weren’t tons and tons of people; just the normal amount, and no one was pushing or shoving or fighting over anything. I did walk by the paper goods aisle, just to see, and it was empty. Few things seems completely gone (well, except for eggs; I guess I’m going to have to go earlier if I want them). There was ice cream and a variety of frozen foods, lots of meat, a good variety of crackers and cookies, milk, yogurt, and cream cheese. I’m pretty certain we’re not going to starve, unless you’re on an egg-only diet.

I did make a quick stop at Target, just in case not many Target customers were into eggs. No luck. But, I did purchase some blueberries.

I don’t think I’ve quite learned the secret of always being content. But, I’m trying to move towards that goal.