Ho, ho, HURL. The Grinch and the Christmas Vomit.
By Nathan
Late Friday night, I heard some footsteps next to the bathroom, followed by a plaintive, “Dad?” The sound of vomiting launched me out of bed faster than any clatter upon any lawn at any time in history.
Flipping on the bathroom light revealed my Joseph, embracing a large silver bowl. “Now I have the stomach bug!” he exclaimed before retching loudly into the bowl.
I comforted him and moved him over to the toilet. Lord have mercy. You might have guessed from what he said that he wasn’t the first with the stomach bug. Nor was he the second. He was the third person who had vomited that day. The stomach bug had come to my house with a naughty list that filled everyone with dread.
It was a long three days. First Jonathan, then Mary, and finally Joseph succumbed to the Grinch who stole their dinner.
Love and Christmas vomit.
Nothing quite like a house full of vomit to stir up the old Christmas cheer. Joseph was a champ… he made it to the metal bowl or the bathroom every time. He wasn’t happy about it, but he didn’t make any nasty messes. Mary just wanted to sleep a lot in between bouts of toilet hugging. Jonathan, on the other hand, threw up all over everything.
I got doused more than once. Mary got it more than I did. And I can’t even count the number of times we had to clean up and Clorox the floor and furniture. The washing machine ran constantly in the background, purifying soiled clothing and towels.
Mary and Jojo recovered after about 24 hours, but Jonathan’s stomach bug lasted for about 5 days. Brutal. Now both he and Joseph are on antibiotics for sinus infections that contributed nasty coughs to the unhappy tummies. God willing, the other three of us will escape the stomach bug.
I had a lot of time in the middle of the night to ponder the glory of parental and marital love. Cleaning up vomit is a kind of love that rarely makes it into Christmas cards, but in a way, it is what the Christmas season is all about. God took on flesh on that first Christmas morning to clean up a world flooded with vomit. And not just the kind that comes out of upset stomachs and other diseases. The kind that results from the sick and sinful appetites of humanity. Much nastier.
Looking for a savior.
On Sunday, the families in the neighborhood did a Posada. We have a bunch of families with lots of kids, so this is something we do every year. Normally my family joins in, but this time we stayed home to avoid sharing a case of Christmas vomit. It’s a Christmas gift that nobody wants.
If you’re not familiar with Posadas, it’s a Christmas tradition that comes out of Mexico. A couple dresses as Joseph and a very pregnant Mary looking for a place to stay the night. Followed by a crowd of onlookers, they travel from home to home in a neighborhood, knocking on doors and asking for a place to stay. The people at each house play the part of the innkeepers, refusing them lodging.
The final house in the Posada welcomes Mary and Joseph, as well as the rest of the crowd, for carols and refreshments. The whole thing is a lot of fun, especially when you have a crowd of children running around.
I still wanted to participate, to get into the spirit of Christmas. I put on my brown bathrobe and wrapped a towel around my head. My kids dressed up in totally random costumes that tangentially touched on the Christmas theme. I got a little bell and started ringing it when the crowd showed up. “Unclean! Unclean! Run away. Our house is contaminated with leprosy.”
The parents thought this was really funny. Another thought struck me. “We need someone who can save us from this leprosy. Do you know where we can find a Savior? We really need a Savior.” I don’t know if the kids caught this, but it struck me as a profound truth. Jesus came to save us from sin and sickness and death. His miracles attested to this fact.
An Advent people.
I’ve heard Christians called an Easter people. That makes sense, because the events of Easter define who we are as Christians. But in the middle of the night, cleaning up another puddle of vomit, it occurred to me that we’re also an Advent people. We await the arrival of our Savior.
Lying in bed, I prayed, “Lord, what is this? Why is everybody so sick today? The first days of my vacation!” The scripture came to mind from Paul’s letter to the Romans: “…for creation was made subject to futility, not of its own accord but because of the one who subjected it, in hope that creation itself would be set free from slavery to corruption and share in the glorious freedom of the children of God.” Romans 8:20-21
That fulfillment, the release of creation from the slavery to the corruption that reveals itself in my puking child, has not yet taken place. As we repeat in the Creed every week at Mass and at the beginning of every Rosary, we await the coming of our Lord in Glory. We still await our Savior.
For some reason known only to God, the work He started on that first Christmas morning is not yet complete. I don’t pretend to understand it, but I think it has to do with me, my family, and countless other Christians throughout history. The Second Coming is game over. If it had happened long before my birth, how could I have come to love, know, and serve the Lord? God delays, not out of sloth or malice, but out of mercy and expectation. He wants His family to grow.
God’s desire is to be surrounded by a vast multitude of children who know and love him. My joy in sitting with my children in their Christmas jammies is like a miniature version of God surrounded by a countless multitude of rejoicing children. If delaying the final hour will add to their number, great will be His rejoicing.
The Grinch fails again.
The attack of the Christmas vomits failed to ruin my joy or my vacation. Granted, I didn’t put cleaning puke on my to-do list. But I did want to spend quality time with my family. While the circumstances are not my favorite in the world, I don’t think there are many better ways to show my son that I love him than to get up in the middle of the night for the fifth time when he’s throwing up in the bathroom. That’s love when it counts.
Another side effect has been the near cloistering of my family. Instead of running off to their friends to play, all four kids have been at home. We’re quarantining until we know that the bug is gone. So, I’ve had a chance to read to them, play games, build awesome spaceships out of Legos, watch movies, and even introduce my oldest son to a little web design.
It’s also points out one essential point of faith. God only allows evil in the world because He’s able to use it to bring about a good greater than the evil that He might have prevented. The scriptures prophesy an end to all human suffering and misery, so our desire for that is both valid and good. But the good of more souls coming to know and love their Heavenly Father and Savior and the Holy Spirit? The glory of a single human soul entering into the heavenly kingdom outweighs a multitude of sufferings.
God’s plan for us is perfect and perfectly loving. Even when it involves a little Christmas vomit.
Jesus snatched me out of the darkness and saved me from complete madness. If you want to hear more of that story, check out Demoniac, now available on Amazon.
