Friday, June 06, 2014

Lessons From the Edge

We're together to be a bother.

In my daily activities at Edgewood, I have abundant opportunities to help people with lots of different things. To name a few: I have unlocked doors, fastened necklaces, searched for answers on the internet, retrieved power sources for oxygen tanks, purchased postage stamps, led a blind man through the store, picked up dropped pillows, gotten items out of storage units in the basement, given fashion "advice", adjusted fans, opened and closed windows, and fixed broken televisions. (That is, I found the TV remote and pushed Power.)
Most of the time, these actions of mine are met with smiles and words of thanks. People are grateful for whatever I have done for them, and I am truly happy to do it.
But recently a new woman moved in and when she asked me for help, her words were a little different. It was probably the third or fourth time she needed something that day, and when she approached me she began with, "I'm sorry to be a bother..." I looked at her and said, "Oh, G, you are not a bother. We're all here to help each other. Every one of us needs something sometime. It's why we're together." And her neighbor who was standing there with us confirmed what I was saying. We're in this together.
G seemed satisfied with our encouragement. She hasn't been shy about being a bother. And I'm glad. I really do love being able to serve the men and women at Edgewood. Even with the simple things like turning on their air conditioner. It's why we're together. To help each other.

And just the other night, the reality of my situation at work hit home. Quite literally. (And you should know I don't use that word lightly. *wink*) Brian and I had just gone to bed Read that: I was almost asleep. when there was a pounding on our door. I mumbled, "Come in," and saw Matthew standing in our doorway. He was printing something for school and needed to know where the new ink cartridge was located. So I told him, and rolled over to go to sleep.
Moments later, the knocking was back. Matthew couldn't find the ink cartridge. So I got up, found it, helped Matthew print and scan the alignment page and went back to bed. Again.
Annnnnnnd, yet moments later, the knocking was back once more. This time the printer "wasn't working" and I said to Brian, "Can you get this one?" Because I didn't want to be bothered again am not a computer guru, like Brian is. *ahem*
And, sure enough, that was the last time anyone knocked on our door that night.

As I considered my annoyance with having my sleep interrupted at home, and compared it to my relative indifference at having my work interrupted at Edgewood, I realized the beauty of what I was seeing at work needed to be transferred home.
Right now I have the ability and privilege to serve people in need. Even when that person needs help while I'm trying to sleep. And it feels like a bother. But there will come a day when I will be the one needing help. Maybe my fingers will no longer be able to fasten my necklace, or I won't remember how to turn on the air conditioner, or my eyesight will be too poor to get me through the grocery store.
And when that day comes, I will be so thankful for the ones around me who are able to help. Who are willing to tend to my bothers, so I can keep on being one.

We're together to be a bother.

Is anyone "bothering" you today?

Karen
Disclaimer: The ideas and opinions expressed in this post are my own, and may not necessarily reflect those of Vista Springs Living Centers.

2 comments:

Leah @ The Point said...

What a great reminder. I am very guilty of growing impatient when I am interrupted. This is something I definitely need to work on.

Karen Hossink said...

Leah - Once again, I find myself thankful for God's grace and patience with me, as His Spirit works to refine my character. We're in this together, sister! :)