In December, our family was exposed to Covid, and all six of us (ages 4-38) experienced the illness to one degree or another. My husband recently wrote a post about what he learned through this difficult experience, and now I’m going to share what I learned.
Before I continue, let me say that I know that our difficulty was really so small compared to so many who have suffered/are suffering from various health issues in general and even specifically from more serious cases of Covid itself. Yet the Lord still teaches various lessons to various people based on their various circumstances and trials. These are a few of the big lessons I learned.
Covid is real, and it can be really bad.
Although it’s true that mild symptoms of Covid can be as minor as cold symptoms (like my kids experienced to varying degrees) or as uncomfortable as influenza (like I experienced), serious Covid symptoms are incredibly distressing and potentially life-threatening.
My husband (healthy, no pre-existing conditions, Crossfit member) experienced 11 days of high fevers (102-103), chills, 14-pound weight loss, GI symptoms, lack of appetite/taste, dehydration, etc. The day he finally went to the ER, he could barely walk and started to develop respiratory symptoms: chest pain, difficulty breathing after walking only a couple of steps, decreased oxygen levels, etc. He was diagnosed with Covid pneumonia and finally began to feel a little better around day 17.
And of course, we probably have heard of those who have it even worse or have died from it.
Covid should be taken seriously, but it should not be feared.
Being a nurse, I have always taken Covid seriously. I’ve understood that it’s not just another flu bug. I’ve understood that it can be very dangerous and even life-threatening for healthy people, as well as for those more at risk. But being a Christian, I have also realized that Covid is under the control of God, just like everything else in this world.
Don’t get me wrong—fear was knocking on my door when I dropped my husband off at the ER, unsure when and if I would see him again. (Thankfully, he was released after only a couple of hours.) I worriedly strained my eyes at night to watch and see if Dave was breathing while he slept. I monitored his fluid intake and his oxygen levels with nurse-like regularity.
The fear was there, but I had to constantly replace that fear with trust. The very afternoon I learned that we had possibly been exposed to Covid, I had taught in Sunday School that morning the truth that Jesus is in control over disease. He is omnipotent (all-powerful) and sovereign (he controls all things). These truths rolled over and over in mind as I dealt with the realities of my husband’s illness and the unknowns of how bad it might get.
Caregivers of those with illness need much encouragement, prayer, and love.
I have a newfound sympathy for those who live with someone needing care—whether short-term or long-term. It is so incredibly draining to watch someone suffer and be able to do basically nothing. It was physically draining for me personally as I fought the illness myself and had to take care of my 4 kids, as well as my husband. But it was also emotionally draining to watch him suffer, attempt to help, make decisions, monitor text/phone updates to friends/family, and continue with the rest of life.
I found that it was also lonely. My husband was there, but he was absent in the sense that he didn’t talk much or want to be touched, and he often slept. My kids didn’t quite understand the gravity of his illness, so that added to the aloneness I felt. With being quarantined with Covid in particular, the loneliness is accentuated in no one being able to visit, talk face-to-face, or give a hug.
God’s people can be a visible extension of God’s love.
When you pray for healing and God doesn’t answer as soon as/how you’d like, it’s easy to feel like God’s mercy, love, and compassion are not being shown. It is easy to despair in the midst of a trial, especially when the outcome is unknown. It’s easy to wonder as Job did, “Why?”
God showed his love to us through the love of many during this time. Meals, texts, Vernors, gifts, groceries, cash, and prayers helped us remember that not only did these people love us, but God loved us too.
“Beloved, if God so loved us, we also ought to love one another. No one has ever seen God; if we love one another, God abides in us and his love is perfected in us” (1 John 4:11-12 ESV).
Accepting help from others is a humbling process, but it allows God to show grace through others and bring joy.
Speaking of all that help our friends and family gave us. . . It is hard to accept help from others. To do so admits that you are a weak human who does not always have everything perfectly under control. And isn’t that the uncomfortable truth?!
“But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong” (2 Cor 12:9-10 ESV).
The first week, we had many offers from others to bring food, which we refused, because we had no appetite and we literally had no room in the fridge (I had just shopped for two weeks’ worth of food). As the days went on with no improvement for my husband, my children continued to have as much appetite and energy as ever (their illnesses were very short lived). After trying to pull one real meal together and feeling like I was going to collapse after that, I eagerly accepted every meal that was sent our way. I needed help, and God was gracious to me through these people.
I also learned that the meals and groceries sent our way were in a way God’s grace to the very people who gave them. Just as I was eager to help my husband and was sad when nothing I offered was helpful, so were the people who surrounded me. They were so thankful to be a help and feel like they could make a difference.
“For they gave according to their means, as I can testify, and beyond their means, of their own accord, begging us earnestly for the favor of taking part in the relief of the saints— and this, not as we expected, but they gave themselves first to the Lord and then by the will of God to us” (2 Cor 8:3-5).
And this cheerful generosity led to thanksgiving to God. God was glorified through their gifts to help us.
“You will be enriched in every way to be generous in every way, which through us will produce thanksgiving to God. For the ministry of this service is not only supplying the needs of the saints but is also overflowing in many thanksgivings to God” (2 Cor 9:11-12).
Any contagious illness presents risks, and sometimes love is willing to take a risk.
Everyone believes differently concerning Covid and its risks. People take different precautions, and some take little to none at all. Love, I believe, is key to helping navigate these differences and to serving in spite of risks.
Because we are not harming ourselves or others by wearing masks, we generally wear masks when in public, including our church. We do this—whether or not it can be infallibly proven to work—out of love for those around us. When we are only with people who do not care in the least about masks, we may choose to remove them because we are not overly concerned for ourselves at this point and are not out to make a statement.
For those who are more concerned or at known risk for the disease, we don’t invite them to our home, give hugs, or insist they attend a function. Out of love. For those who would be encouraged by a hug, a time of safe fellowship, etc, we are willing to be creative to make that happen. Out of love.
This is the kind of love we ourselves were shown. When we were quarantined, I needed to take my husband to the hospital, and I couldn’t take my kids. A friend offered to come watch them. Was there risk? Yes, but sometimes love trumps risks. We worked out how we could do that in a safe way, but I was so grateful that her love was greater than fear in that case.
I’m sure there’s more I could say, but these lessons are the highlights. Already, just a few weeks out, I’m forgetting the impact that the illness had on our family. I feel foolish for having feared that Dave might die when he is now already almost back to 100%. So I write so that I won’t forget and that perhaps you might know how to pray better and care for someone going through a similar trial.