Covid and the Invitation to Extend Grace

The past year has been tragic for many people - deaths of loved ones, severe health problems, job loss, financial hardships, mental health struggles,  and so much more. 

But for some of us, one of the difficult things about the past year and a half has been a seemingly smaller problem - trying to figure out what is safe to do,  and what isn't. Of course there have been guidelines that have been updated by the health authorities - wash hands, wear masks, stay home, keep a safe distance, etc. But as a few months have turned into over a year,  it's not always been possible or easy just to hit pause on life. 

Some people have laughed off the dangers of covid,  ignored the risks not only to themselves, but also to the high risk people they could encounter. But many of us took the pandemic seriously,  and still have had very different ideas of what an acceptable risk is. 

Should I hire a maid to clean? It's risky but she probably needs the job and the money,  and we are drowning under housework and childcare. 

Should I go to the dentist? How long can I put off my dental work? 

Should I run an errand for a friend? Will their need outweigh the risk to myself and my family? 

Should I visit my old grandparents? They are high risk,  but they are also desperately lonely and need family to visit them occasionally. 

Should I take my young child to see her grandparents? It's a risk to them and to us, but is the solution not having a relationship for over a year? What if they get sick at the  end of the year anyway from some other source,  and we missed out on the chance to build our relationship?

Different people have had different answers to these questions. 

Many didn't have an option about staying home. My husband is a doctor,  so while he wears PPE at the hospital,  we have not been completely isolated since the start of the pandemic. We heard that some doctors' wives and kids moved to a different home to be safe,  but my husband and I didn't think that was what God wanted of us- for him to miss out on the first year of our daughter's life,  or our own married life together.  We'd face the risks together (while trying to take every precaution possible). 

Several of my family had or are having pandemic babies. My daughter too was born in August 2020. We didn't have an option about going for check ups and different doctors' visits. 

I asked my mum to come help me for the first few weeks of my baby's birth. She knew there was a risk involved,  but she felt that my need outweighed the risk. My husband and mother were both with me through my long,  painful labour and for the actual delivery. Amazingly, though we later found out my doctor had covid,  none of us contracted it. Others who took every possible precaution, still contracted it. 

So many different situations,  and so many difficult decisions,  that needed to be re-evaluated with new data, new needs and struggles, and as cases went up and down. So much thinking and overthinking,  discussing, reading,  researching, and analyzing. 

That was difficult enough.  But another more painful problem seems to have arisen across the globe - a high level of judgment and anger and hurt about other people's decisions, often within families and communities. I saw people discuss this on Twitter and Facebook threads,  and realized a lot of people are going through the same struggle. 

I began to realize sometime last year that this particular decision-making is difficult for everyone,  and it's not my job to make decisions for other people.  I didn't always agree with everyone else's ideas of acceptable risks, and I'm sure not everyone agreed with mine.  

Then I remembered a lesson I had learned many years ago - that one of the best gifts I could receive or give was the gift of 'extending grace'. To me that meant trying to believe the best instead of the worst about people's motives, always giving the benefit of the doubt,  withholding judgment, and being kind regardless. It meant trying to put myself in the other person's shoes,  and trying to understand where they were coming from,  even if I couldn't fully agree with them.  

It was helpful to take into account different people's situations and personalities. In some ways,  many introverts thrived on the hermit- like life asked of them.  No social engagements or obligations? Yes, please. (That's me.)  Extroverts on the other hand have been slipping into depression. Some people are naturally more cautious and risk-averse, so in some ways this pandemic has played into their inclinations and confirmed their fear that the world is a dangerous place and too many people are crazy risk takers. I recently read on one FB thread that the more cautious personalities did better at the height of the pandemic, and became more and more anxious as things opened up.  More adventurous personalities were NOT inclined to 'stay home, stay safe', but many did it anyway... until months passed and it just became too much. People from very community-oriented backgrounds couldn't really grasp the concept of not socializing, or not inviting people into their homes.  A lot of the older generation just couldn't seem to get it. These were things I just couldn't control,  nor was I asked to do so. 

My responsibility was to make decisions with my husband for OUR family. Which brings me to the other important concept I began to reflect on - boundaries. Boundaries are a reminder of what I was responsible for,  and what l wasn't.  One  of my most important life lessons (especially because I keep thinking it's my job to make sure everyone is happy, healthy, holy and safe) is the motto: I can't control what other people do, but I can control what I do. 

These two ideas actually worked well together - I could sympathize or empathize with other people's decisions,  but finally I had to make my own decisions (after praying and talking to my husband). I had to respect other people's decisions,  as I expected them to respect mine. 

Like any hardship, the pandemic presents us with an opportunity to allow God in,  or shut Him out. We are always offered an invitation to choose love, mercy and grace in the midst of the most difficult of situations. 

"Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful. Do not judge, and you will not be judged. Do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven." Luke 6: 36-37