Embracing COVID

For nearly two years a consistent decision companion has been COVID: Would that be a safe place to go? Can we travel this season? Should we let our kids out to the playgrounds? Is it safe to send our kids to school in person? And while I often try and act like these decisions are straightforward and without cost, there are layers of sadness, grief, anxiety and fear that often underly these conversations.

My heart still carries wounds from missing Elena’s birth because I was sick with strep throat and they weren’t allowing people with symptoms into the hospital. I’m grateful for Facetime, but that was not a part of our birth plan. I’m sad that we missed Christmas celebrations with family in Rochester two years in a row. I’m sad that Seth finished Pre-K, with teachers we loved, online (in case you weren’t aware that teachers are heroes, I would invite you to lead a Zoom call with twelve 4 year olds!). I’m sad that Sean and Seth haven’t been able to have friends come over and play for these past two years. I’m tired of making COVID calculations every time I step outside of the apartment.

I’m also aware of the ways I’ve been discipled by fear over these past two years. When COVID first hit, every person I walked past in NYC was a potential carrier; I often didn’t look people in the eyes, as if making eye contact could spread the disease. I would become instantly agitated if someone got closer than 6 feet in whatever line I was waiting in. We were vaccinated and boosted as soon as we could be and wore masks almost all the time, and still my inner posture towards others was often rooted in fear.

Then Sean took a two and a half hour nap Sunday afternoon – he even put himself down to sleep. As a parent, I was rejoicing: Elena and Sean were napping at the same time! Let’s get some chores done around the house. However, when I picked him up from his nap, he was burning up. Then he started in with a slight cough. We were hopeful, but it started to seem likely that COVID had come to the Craigs.

However, something beautiful happened that Sunday and Monday. Just as before I was instantly agitated by those who encroached on the ubiquitous 6 feet social distancing stickers, I was now instantly compassionate towards Sean. This may have been due in part to the inevitability of getting COVID now that Sean likely had it. While we appreciate the CDC’s recommendations when it comes to quarantining people in your home, that process with a 3 year old in a one bedroom apartment was nothing short of impossible.

So I embraced Sean. I snuggled Sean. I, a little reluctantly, allowed Sean to kiss my cheeks and rub his nose on my shirt. I made sure to kiss Sean back, seeking to bring comfort to him as this virus attacked his cute little body.

For those of you who know me, compassion is not my first response, ever! In light of seeking to grow as a parent, I have been praying through Colossians 3:12 for these past two years: “Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience.”

Seeing Sean with COVID has been one of those beautiful moments when a compassion clearly not of myself fills my heart and I find myself moving towards him with compassion and love. Fear, anxiety and sadness have been swallowed up, if only for a moment, and there’s a very real sense of true peace, grace and hope.

In case you were wondering, yes, Sean shared it with all of us!