The thing that they don’t tell you in all the child preparation classes you get before having a baby, and it’s a shame that they don’t, is that these little gifts from God, your little precious child whom you love in a way that is more profound than you can properly articulate, this individual whom God knit together in the womb of your wife and knew before the child was born; This creature will get you sick. Sometimes profoundly sick.
They spend way too much time in the personal space of their friends or go out and lick the yard and then come back inside with lots of hugs and kisses for mom and dad. It brings a whole new meaning to the phrase spread the love. (Growing up my father was never very affectionate as far as hugs and such, in hindsight it seems that maybe this was more strategic than it was dysfunctional)
I woke up at around 3am following Conduit last Monday in a sort of suspended gastro animation. It was crystal clear that some sort of launch code had been initiated but I wasn’t sure of the exact lift off. The suspense was killing me. I had a sort of knowing that something was coming, but I had no idea from what orifice it would originate or with what kind of velocity. I would soon find out.
To spare you all the detailed descriptions and word pictures that I could paint, suffice it to say that it began a week that my wife would rather forget. This apocalyptic stomach virus systematically and purposefully picked off us off one at a time and mercilessly attacked each of my four children in addition to myself.
If this is some sort of biological warfare that it must never get into the hands of the wrong people. It was truly a weapon of mass destruction. At the risk of sounding conspiracy theorist I think that there were black helicopters in the cool springs area last week. I’m just saying.
There is one interesting silver lining to report. As of this writing, my beautiful bride who served as a sort of Mother Teresa of puke this past week was not stricken with this plague. Considering how many bed sheets, blankets, toilets, puke bowls and towels she had to clean it is absolutely fascinating that she did not fall ill. Some might even say miraculous. I’m quite certain it had nothing to do with my threats to the Lord that I wasn’t going to tithe for two weeks if she got sick. (it was late and I was down trodden and in despair)
For a brief moment I thought about contacting the Vatican and submitting her as a candidate for sainthood. She had the qualifications such as acts of selfless kindness and even the hard one: a confirmable miracle. It is not hyperbole or exaggeration to suggest that it’s a miracle that she didn’t get sick. This thing was a conscious and calculating life form sent from the pit of hell. She resisted it with a spiritual finesse that must be recorded for the generations to come.
That being said, after realizing that there was no cash prize for sainthood (Nobel prize winners get $1m) and coming to the sobering realization that if She was a saint I couldn’t enjoy some of the finer benefits of being married I decided to buy her flowers.
It’s hard to believe it’s Christmas already. Since it’s Jesus birthday that we’re celebrating it seems appropriate to give Him something . What to give though to the guy who truly does have everything? He made it easy though, and said that what He wants is for us to feed and clothe those who are called “the least of these”. He said that when we’ve done it unto them that we’ve done it unto them.
If you feel led, you can go to http://www.conduitmission.org and click on the “donate” button. Maybe you could get Jesus a handsome new “feed a child for a month” for His birthday. It’s only $15 and is indeed the gift that keeps giving.