I am sure this happens to most of you bloggers out there. You are having a normal conversation and suddenly you realize:
That happened to me this week at work. I was procrastinating working and so were some of my work chums. One of the guys I work with, the front desk receptionist, a former student and myself had quite the time not working and telling stories of silliness.
While we were talking my teacher friend said that I tell some funny stories, but his favorite is the one about the old lady. It took me a few minutes to remember what stories I told about an old lady. The time my grandma asked me if I was a knocked up lesbian? I don't think that one came up at work (it might now if the couple coworkers who know about this blog happen to read today. Hi guys!) Then It all came back to me. Ah yes the old lady story! I decided then and there it was a blog worthy story. I am even going to try to pull out some deep meaning from this story so bear with me.
When I was in high school I worked part-time at a couple of different places. I was a waitress for the most part, it was terrible, mad props to the service industry. I also worked in a nursing home as a CNA (Certified Nursing Assistant) at an assisted living facility. It was never my lifetime goal to be a nurse, but I am good with people and it paid more than minimum wage so I was in.
The job was really simple, cleaning room, changing beds, helping patients when they called, helping the nurses when they need someone else to lift a person. One of the duties (ha, duties) was that I had to help change adult diapers. Let me tell you after working there I decided growing old is just not going to happen for this girl. I am sure I will either die by 70 or Jesus will come back, but me living in a nursing home type place ain't going to happen. This also goes for my immediate family, sorry momma you will have to live with me one day.
One day I was cleaning a room and changing the sheets on a bed. In order to guarantee sanitation you had to wear gloves even when you changed the sheets, praise Jesus. As I was wrapping it up I was paged by a patient, let's call her Ruth, to come help her in her room.
Her room was just a few doors away so I went there to see what I could do to help her. I had worked with Ruth for a few weeks and I knew she could be a little loopy. She wasn't ever really sure what was going on, but she was always so sweet and kind.
Ruth asked me to put my hands out. I did (mistake!) and she pulled her hand from under her bottom and proceeded to place her poop in my hands. My hands were astonishingly filled with another person's poop and she kept trying to give me more. I managed to get my 17-year-old self to yell for help after another CNA looked in the room and ran away pretending she didn't see what was going on. A nurse came in and helped with the code poop and life went back to normal.
I learned two major life lessons that day. 1. I never put my hands out when someone tells me they have a surprise for me. 2. Even on my worst day I can remember that I did not have a mountain of poop in my hands, so I am OK.
I told this story at work one day because I was sitting at the boy's table and somehow conversation always turns to their own personal poop. I know far too much about the bodily processes of the men I work with. I will not talk about my poop, but I will tell stories of poop whenever I can. I have said poop so many times in this post I am pretty much an 11-year-old boy.
Now here comes the deeper significance, I hope. Yesterday The guy who remembered this story asked me if I was a really nurturing, caring person. His implication is that only a really selfless person would have a job like this. I was really caught off guard by his question. I mean what do you say? Yes I am better than Mother Teresa! No, I hate humanity. The job just paid more than minimum wage.
I realized something somewhat important though. Since high school I have not really talked about myself and what I do for others. I think it is good to be humble and not brag about this kind of thing. I think I am the same person I was at that time that really wasn't bothered by handfuls of poop. The same kid who was kind to the elderly and wanted to help bring them dignity in their final years. The same girl who organized a clothing drive for one old lady who only had 2 outfits. I really think I am that girl, I just do not share it.
My time and my house are pretty much always open to ministry. I have a student from China that lives with me, May. When she asked me if she could move in I committed to her that i would 'p//be her family here in America. I would help her with her homework, provide good food for her, and her friends were always welcome at our home. My home became her home and her friends are here all the time. I take them on outings, I share advice with them, I help them with their SATs and College Applications. I take them on driving lessons, God keep me alive. There are very few weekends where there isn't something going on.
I think the thing that got me going on this whole topic was that the coworker asked me if I was really a caring person. It struck me to my heart so hard and it hurt. I hope that when others see me they do not have to wonder what person I am. I also hope that the person I let others see is the person that I really am.
So here is my thought. I think that as a people we need to be more outspoken about the good we see and the good we do in the world. Maybe it is just my corner of the planet, but it is easy to go through a day without hearing about much love and hope. I want to change this in myself and hope that others around me will too. On top of this I will also promise not to think you are being braggy or trying to be to crazy Christian when you talk about the good you see around you.
And just because I mentioned her and she is kind of amazing here are some of my favorite Momma T quotes.