If it had been April 2020 or 2021, if it had been January 2022, I would have handled it differently; but it was April 7, 2022.
I had just passed through a tense TSA security check. The line was ferociously long and even though it appeared to flow like a slow river, it had jerks and stops. In the past, a line this long would have meant a missed flight.
When I had finally made it through, after having been asked to take everything out of my pockets, I retrieved my carryons and was happily slipping on my shoes. I would make it to the gate on time.
Then the phone call--my daughter reporting that her son had tested positive for covid. She understood completely if I didn't want to come. He didn't have symptoms but in his school's weekly mandatory testing, the test had yielded a positive. Perhaps it was a false positive.
I needed to go now more than before. Mandi was scheduled for a minor and short surgical procedure under general anesthesia. Who else could they ask to watch the children with covid in their home?
What should I do? I prayed for an answer. It was okay to go.
By the time we got to the house, the little guy without symptoms was lying on the floor with flushed cheeks. By early evening he was in pain, slightly delusional and sleeping on a chair.
It looked like the positive wasn't false.
We were all exposed.
But everyone had been vaccinated and boosted except the three year old. It looked like we'd be having our own medical experiment.
I ran through the worst case scenarios--the best case scenarios, and everything in between. It mostly looked bleak, but we had determined we could and would handle what we needed to do.
The week previous I had read, God cares more about your faith than protecting you from discomfort and harm.
This was God caring about my faith. I prayed to be protected from covid but had to acknowledge I may still become infected. I tried not to worry; in my trials, in sickness or in health, is a chance to practice faith in the Savior.
Victor Frankl changed the world's perception of suffering. He reasoned in the worst possible situation that man could be happy if he found meaning in his suffering. This is an exercise of faith.
There was a WHY in still coming to my daughter's home. I knew it and I couldn't deny the importance of my decision. If I suffer in the upcoming days, I will know why and endure the consequent inconveniences and discomfort with understanding. I couldn't have acted otherwise.
And remember, it is April 2022.
Seven days later update: everyone is well. Even the little guy has recovered.
The why, the faith, the blessings…are much more than added dimensions to life~~they are life.
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