We Need Your Grace

It happened exactly one week ago when we were eyeball deep in December to-dos.
Elisabeth came down with a fever the morning of her class Christmas party. Poor kid never misses school, unlike her siblings she doesn’t even want to miss school, and now she would have to miss her Christmas party.
M was working from home, so I set her up with a movie on the couch and went to the the kids’ school to help with their parties. After their early dismissal I schlepped them over to Target to check four or five more things off my list. M called to report Elisabeth was feeling much better and was probably over the mysterious fever. Whew. We would be able to stay right on-track with our schedule over the weekend.
But in Target, with my kids acting like loud hooligans, I realized my eyes were burning and I was freezing.
A fever? REALLY? Today?
No, as it turns out, not just a fever today. A fever for the next seven days. And counting. That’s right, the flu.
If it’s been awhile since you’ve had the flu, let me just say it’s just as craptastic as you remember. More so, actually. Because while you might remember the fever, chills, sore throat, tummy issues, and widespread body aches, you surely don’t remember the depression that sneaks into your psyche after six days in bed.
You know what else happens after a week of wearing your pjs and caring for your sicker than sick kids?
You make stupid choices. Or at least that’s what happened to us this week.
On Monday, Elisabeth were right smack-dab in the middle of the flu. We should have spent the day in bed, instead the girls and I went to a crowded theater to see The Nutcracker.
Even though we tried our best to not breathe or touch anything, I’m sure we did. If you are that woman sitting behind us, giving us dirty looks, I know what you were thinking. “Irresponsible people like you are the reason everyone else gets sick! Go home!”
But we were desperate. Like I said, the depression was the hardest part of being sick. I didn’t realize how much the momentum of accomplishing things, the endorphins from exercise, and the buoyancy of the sunshine mattered until I was flat on my back.
More importantly, I didn’t realize how much these mattered to my little girl until dullness replaced the Christmas sparkle in Elisabeth’s eyes. She and I coughed on the couch while M took the others to church, Christmas concerts, fun dinners, and out shopping. No matter how bad she felt, she begged to go with them.
Worse than her flu-fever was her cabin fever. She needed a change of scenery. We did what we had to do, even if it took Elisabeth six heavy-duty cough drops to get through the show. And I had to leave during the second act because of my cough.
Getting out of the house did buoy her spirits. I’m sure M would say it was as important as liquids and rest for her recovery.
By Christmas Eve, Sam was also coughing and running a little fever. With half the kids sick and all of us with a hacking cough, we probably all should have stayed home from church that night.
But we didn’t.
My fever-halucinating rationale went something like this: the well kids would still celebrate the gift-opening, Santa part of Christmas, and we can’t do that part of Christmas without also celebrating Jesus’ birthday.
So, we took our yucky selves from our couches to the church pews. And we were just as much of a hot mess as you’re imagining. More so, probably.
Surely one of the hundreds of people around us looked at our family and thought, “Why don’t they give those kids some cough medicine?  And that mother is shivering. DOES SHE HAVE A FEVER?!”
I’m sorry. We need your grace and forgiveness.
Because here’s what I learned. When a small disaster like the flu struck our house, we did the best we could. When we felt a little desperate, we leaned on the kindness and forgiveness of strangers.
But our own desperation also taught our family quite a bit about giving grace to others. It taught us not to judge others so harshly.
The next time we are in church or in a theater and the person behind us is coughing and sneezing, they will not get dirty looks from us. Our family gets how it feels to be inside during the most wonderful time of the year, to feel a little bad in your body but really bad in your spirits, to need to be around other people as badly as they need you to be home.
So, when we see your sick self out and about, we will try to share some grace with you.
As long as you try to not share your flu with us.