being right

I woke up too early to sore muscles and three sick children. Halfway through my coffee, I glance at my calendar.

“9:30.”

With no memory of what this might refer to, I ask my husband, who reminds me that we’re having blood tests today for our new life insurance policy, so I shouldn’t eat or drink anything. For the next four hours.

Perfect.

Oh, and I’m a classroom volunteer for Twin A.’s class. I rummage through my in-box looking for the volunteer schedule that tells me what to do when I can’t make it, but it has evaporated into the land of un-filed email that can never be found. And so I email the teacher and the schedule coordinator, explaining that Twin A. is sick and I’m not sure what to do about my volunteer shift.

His teacher emails me right back and tells me not to worry about it. She has extra help today. Just give A. lots of hugs.

And then I get an email from the coordinator. A very rude email detailing sick policy protocol, which I have clearly broken. And she sent it out to the entire class.

Have I mentioned that I’ve just had a very emotional two days of getting beat up and my body hurts all over? And I’m starving, but can’t eat anything? Oh, and I have three sick, needy children?

This is a good reminder to me to show grace. I have been that coordinator, sending out curt emails. Being right.

But right doesn’t matter sometimes. Sometimes kindness, courtesy and grace should be above “right.”