Flu and faith remix

I ran parts of this column last February when the flu season got rolling late. This year Influenza B is making the rounds early. Once again, I am grateful that I got my vaccine. My oldest daughter would rather suffer for weeks on end than endure a shot, so she’s doing just that. She has had a fever for eight days and counting.

I don’t like to see her suffer. I am also tired of her rejecting every remedy that might ease her pain. She is eleven years old. She will not take medicine. She isn’t eating much. It’s a struggle to keep her hydrated. Despite her discomfort, she refuses many of the things that could help her feel better. I can’t force-feed her homemade chicken soup or grape popsicles. (I know many of us would enjoy either, even when we feel fine).

=This is a familiar struggle for parents. Ultimately, you cannot force your children to do what you think is best. It’s hard to watch our loved ones suffer—not just our kids. Spouses, friends, siblings, and parents all act outside our control. Whether their choices impact their physical or spiritual well-being, we tend to believe that our way is better.

In this case, “my way” is to get a flu shot and hope for the best. You see, there are years when a flu shot doesn’t prevent a flu infection. There are plenty of people who are firm believers in flu vaccines and just as many who eschew them. Especially those who “only got a flu shot once, and then got sicker than they have ever been.”

Germs, bacteria, and viruses are everywhere. The potential for illness is unrelenting. But our bodies have a defense system to help keep us healthy. We can also make choices that decrease the likelihood of infection: washing your hands, eating healthy food, getting enough sleep, decreasing stress, limiting exposure. All these habits can help too. But at some point, you are going to get sick anyway.

Likewise, we live in a world filled with temptation and suffering. As the spirit children of divine heavenly parents, we all have the light of Christ within us to help us discern good and evil and to choose the good. We can also choose to increase our light and faith through obedience to God’s commandments.

God does not compel us to obey. He does not force us to do those things that will make us feel better—and be better. Like flu vaccines, our faith does not always prevent illness and suffering. But it makes those trials easier to bear. Daily participation in faithful acts—prayer, scripture study, service, devotion—help us to endure the sin and sickness we all experience in life.

Vaccines increase our immune system’s response to invading viruses by giving a heads up in advance. They enable a quick response to counter an illness before it knocks you out. But flu vaccines are tricky because there are many different strains of influenza, and efficacy varies from year to year.

Similarly, God reveals his words to us through prophets, who warn us of temptation. As we study God’s word and walk in his path, we can be protected from some of the evil that surrounds us. We begin to recognize and repent of sins and bad habits early, avoiding actions that distance us from feeling his love.

Even when we try to follow Christ, there will be times when we falter. Life’s challenges can rock the foundations of our faith and leave us feeling wiped out and unable to function. Like rapidly evolving microbes, temptations can morph and sneak into our lives. Technology and social media can help us connect to the world around us or can isolate us from those we love. Some medications treat debilitating pain, but can also lead to addiction. Our professions, hobbies, or friendships can enrich our lives but also have the potential to draw us away from family relationships and obligations.

It’s easy to lose patience with my daughter as she is enduring the flu. After all, she isn’t doing the things I think will help. She calls for me, and I’m tired. And I know she isn’t going to listen to my suggestions. But she looks at me and asks for a hug or a snuggle. In that moment, my heart softens. I love her.

My impatience grows out of that love. It’s difficult to witness suffering that appears avoidable (or at least more severe than necessary). I try to remember that my job is not to heal her or protect her from discomfort. My job is to love her. I sit with her. I stay up to make sure she is okay. And that love makes both of us feel a little better.

Amity Condie lives in Palmer and enjoys reading, writing, and skijoring with her dogs and family. She is a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.