Our daughter, Holly, took ballet, as little girls do. When it was Halloween, their teacher, Miss Lynn, invited them to wear their costumes to class. Every other little girl was a fairy or a princess. Tiaras sparkled. Pink chiffon rustled. It was all delicate sweetness. Except for Holly.

I actually have no idea what a book launch day is supposed to look like. Maybe they are all like this?

The other day, at the end of the day, my book The Minister's Wife: a memoir of faith, doubt, friendship, loneliness, forgiveness and more, arrived. All the watching and waiting and drumming of my fingers on the table in the weeks prior did not make it arrive any sooner, as it turned out.

Zoom is starting to remind me of going to get my hair cut. How you sit there for an hour or more, looking at yourself in the mirror, thinking about your stupid hair.

Once, when I was a kid, my sister burst into my bedroom and yelled at me that my room was on fire. I had placed a rabbit puppet on top of my nightside table reading lamp, and there it smoldered as I read on, page after page, completely oblivious to my burning and beloved toy.

Brent either leads or participates in Morning Prayer via Zoom most mornings, usually sitting at one end of our dining room table. I have joined in, but this morning I read the paper instead.

I don't think I'll be learning macrame, or another language, or finally learning how to build a birdhouse during this time of being set apart and locked up and locked down.

The other night I drifted off to sleep with our neighbour's party music in one ear and Brent murmuring "The global death toll has now reached 10,000," in the other. I think our neighbours are definitely having more fun.

Even though I did just cut up a cantaloupe into bite sized pieces -- which is a bit of work, actually -- and placed the tiny bits into two matching bowls, and sprinkled them with kosher salt and cinnamon (who knows, really, how this will actually taste?), as a kind of surprise dessert, I am worried at how I will pull through for my family.

Last week I was in Winnipeg with Patricia, my writing buddy and co-author of Craft, Cost & Call: How to Build a Life as a Christian Writer. We visited Providence College & Seminary and spoke and shared with writing students in an afternoon class.

Yesterday I read The Minister's Wife: A memoir of faith, doubt, friendship, loneliness, forgiveness and more one last time, every word, each sentence, every scene, each stumbling thought.

With her newest book Shades of Light, Sharon Garlough Brown paints a picture of mental health challenges, anxiety, depression, grief and ultimately the hope and community and friendship she writes about so well.