This morning when I woke up and trekked out to feed the hens with Jack and Henry in tow, I stood in the field and watched the rain.

I pulled my phone out of my old Patagonia jacket pocket and played the Bayside Church morning devotional. I let it play and watched the raindrops splash the screen and chickens take cover under the rose bushes. I listened to pastor Ephraim Smith talk and remind us whose we are, and who has us. And I remembered to breathe.

Here’s the thing. Life was hard enough already before we all came tumbling to a screeching halt. I sent out an email today to our 464 employees and felt the weight of the words I carefully typed and sent. I wanted to make sure our people were OK. Because the reality is, it’s hard. People are anxious, families are anxious. We are full of unknowns and fears. The words are hard to hear, let alone digest them and put them in to practice.

I followed a handful of cars to pick up school packets and was greeted with teachers doing their very best to take care of our kids. I drove into work and spoke with parents that are doing their best to keep the mission and also create a homeschool environment. Parents with crushed seniors missing classes and friends, folks in search of basic needs at grocery stores. Everyone walking around a little lost and scared to breathe or touch anything without sanitizing the world around us.

It’s balancing the weight and reality of elderly parents and child care. Or minimal support systems. Shuttering small businesses with their artisans goods and grit. Choosing when to pause and reflect or lean in and give it all you have.

It’s also knowing that for every hoarder, there are 3 givers. For every struggling single parent, there’s a handful of people willing to help. it was walking into the Blood Bank truck when it pulled up and rolling up our sleeves and giving blood today so we could make a difference. It’s hitting pause and reset and realizing it will take a bit to find the new rhythm and above all else, grace is the best antidote to fear and fumbling.

We never expected to be here, but here we are. So as we digest the words, as we find our balance and new norms and temporary setbacks, and while some carry the burdens of staying the course of front line work; the doctors, nurses, public safety, the truck drivers and store clerks, know that your exhaustion doesn’t go unnoticed, that you are appreciated. That the newly minted homeschool parents don’t have to get it perfect. That schedules don’t have to be rigorous for your child to learn. That baking is science and Art is tactile and nature walks are exercise. Classrooms can be outside and play is learning. Give yourself grace to get it wrong and try again tomorrow.

Sometimes it’s hard to be still. To sit back and watch. So when tempers are short and anxiety high, I encourage you to give grace, give encouragement and give kindness. To check in spiritually and abundantly with each other. For the kids with big emotions right now learning new routines, for the spouse sitting at the kitchen table instead of the office desk, for the people trying to make ends meet. For the overworked people who keep showing up to keep us fed or healthy or safe. Choose grace. It never fails.