The Crud

The irony is not lost on me that after writing about healing, my entire family came down with the crud.

Me? I got a double dose and was out for 3 weeks.

Justin? 2 weeks with lingering issues.

Every single kid had a fever at some point and 3 of us were blessed with the Norovirus.

It was awful.

When I was able to get off the floor, I’d sit up in bed with coughing fits praying, “Jesus, if you want to do that healing thing we talked about, now would be a good time for you to do your thing.”

Not to be dramatic or anything, but I really thought I was going to die.

I made sure my things were in order… just in case.

Have I mentioned it was awful?

And not just the physical aspect of it, which was bad in and of itself, but y’all, the emotional toll of it.

Ugh.

I drove the kids to school one morning and found myself suddenly crying because I felt like I was failing as a mom.

ALL of my shortcomings (real and imagined) were coming to mind…

I haven’t taken them to the dentist in the past 6 months. They don’t have the clothes or things their friends have. I don’t know what they ate yesterday. Did they eat? I think they did. Am I teaching them to be self-sufficient productive kind humans? When was the last time they showered? Are they behind in school? In sports? In life?

I realized, as I was praying Aubyn wouldn’t look over and see the tears behind my sunglasses, that I wasn’t an awful parent. It was just a moment. I was plum worn out, not a “bad” mom.

But it messes with your head.

For the record though, I did go ahead and have Justin make my kids dentist appointments soon after and they all showered that afternoon.

Some things you really do need to go ahead and do.

(and no, you don’t have to text me that I’m doing good as a mom. This was just a moment for irrational thinking and I know none of that is what constitutes being a “good mom”. I’m good!)

But man, it is times like this where having a supportive community and prayer life is so stinking important.

Jesus and I had LOTS of conversations.

Mostly about acceptance. And assistance. And patience. And me not dying.

We covered lots of bases.

But our community….they are so treasured by us. Truly the hands and feet of Jesus.

It is amazing what a quick text from a friend checking in can do to lift your spirits.

Or the difference it makes when friends drop off cans of soup, elderberry gummies, bone broth, and ginger along with homemade remedies to assist the healing process.

And finally, when all the fevers were gone and our house disinfected, we opened our home back up for our church’s cogroup.

We missed them and hated that we had to cancel one of our get togethers.

I was asleep when people started to arrive, so can’t say I was feeling my best, but I felt like a new person after our gathering.

Without hesitation, they prayed over us.

We were non-contagious and fever free, but we were beaten down. I dare say pitiful.

Our group gathered and prayed, shared and laughed. And for the first time in three weeks, I slept through the night.

It was glorious!

From thinking I was going to die because my body couldn’t relax enough to take a breath and coughing fits that lasted an hour to a restful night’s sleep…it was a game changer.

So to our community, thank you.

Thank you for the texts, the food, the supplies, the prayers, and just the general love you showed us.

We rarely get sick, but this bout reminded us of how grateful we are for our health and our community.

Life is a million times better with both those things.