Pay It Forward--
So, having been the recipient of coffee at a drive thru window, I thought it would be great to return the favor and pay it forward. It never occurred to me that it could cause so many challenges. I giggle when I think of "pay it forward" gone bad!
I was in the drive thru lane at a fast food chain. It seemed like a great opportunity to do a kindness for another person. So, when I was paying for my food, I told the person in the window that I was paying for the car behind. She had this "I have no idea what you are saying" look on her face. After a little explanation, she got the idea and took my money for my order and the car behind.
You would think all was well at that point. Orders were in and payment was made. Next step was to drive to the window where they hand out the food and drive away. Not so fast, lady!
When I drove to the food window, the person was very confused. She tried to give me the order for the car behind me. I told her what my order really was. She went looking. Eventually she returned and asked a series of questions about the orders. Was I out of turn in the drive thru? Exactly what had I ordered? What about this other order? I could see frustration mounting. How could this be so mixed up?
After more discussion she agreed with me about whose food was in which sack. She handed mine through the window, and I drove away--quickly. What must those poor folks in the car behind me be thinking, I wondered. While they were getting treated to free food, they had waited a loooooong time to receive it.
Will I do that again? Probably not at a fast food chain. It is too confusing for those working inside. They are used to a specific routine, and my act of kindness threw that routine out the window. Even now I laugh when I think of that day.
But I haven't given up on the idea of paying it forward. No, I haven't.
Thursday, February 28, 2013
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
Airport Happenings
Airport Happenings--
Everyone who purchases an airline ticket wants the same things--for the plane/s to be on time and for luggage to show up all in one piece at the same time you do.
If those two things happen, the trip is bound to be a success. You will have the toothbrush and curling iron that is essential for a good trip, and you will be on time for check-in at the designated hotel. I love it when things go smoothly.
However, things don't always go as planned. On our last return trip, the plane was two hours late due to a situation in a Midwest Airport Traffic Control Tower. How can that be when you are sitting in a Northwest Airport? I can't figure that out. And neither could anyone else who sat with that glassy-eyed look at 7 in the morning. To be there at 7 meant we all had to be up and around by 4:30. But, people were understanding and patient.
We boarded the plane two hours late. That meant those with connecting flights might not arrive in time to make the connection. We were two of those passengers.
We did arrive in time for us to run to the opposite wing of the airport. However, the departure board informed us that our flight was cancelled. No need to hurry. We visited with a customer service rep only to be told there were no flights until the next day. Since we were only three or so hours from home, we rented a car and drove the last one hundred miles.
Not only did that add expense to the trip, but it also meant that the car had to be returned to the airport the next day. And our luggage picked up. This seems to be a usual happening for our trips.
On the trip prior to this one we were seated at the correct gate waiting to board the plane. We kept watching the board to be sure the plane was on time. After one last look we saw that the gate had changed. We literally took off running. This time we had to take a bus across the airport to reach the proper gate. Once inside we started running again.
We were thrilled to see the door to the plane was still open. We raced to the counter and handed our tickets to the agent. He looked at us and then motioned for two stand-by passengers to board the plane. He then turned to us and said since we were not there at that gate fifteen minutes before boarding, he was letting the stand-bys on the plane. We were stunned. I mentioned that we had been at the proper gate and that there was no announcement that the gate had changed. That we had continued to watch the board. And as soon as we saw that it had changed, we took off for this gate. He said we could not board. We were furious. There were two agents at that desk. The other agent was shocked by his partner's actions. After a few minutes I started to laugh at how absurd it was to keep us from boarding. He must have needed to exercise his power. And he did. So, we laughed at our situation and found a way home.
We had a couple of options. Spend the night at the airport or rent a car and drive home. We opted to rent a car. It was a mess as our luggage and car were in an airport over five hours away.
I remember how much fun flying used to be. You got peanuts and coke and even a meal. Granted the meal wasn't gormet, but it was food. Once the flight attendant gave me place mats for all my students. I also remember being given a deck of cards a couple of times. Those were the good times.
Now, people carry on food and drink. I even bought my own blanket as I was sure I would be charged for one on the plane.
It is still the fastest way to get across country. Unless you are caught in a storm. We spent four days in Denver once. Better have a cash reserve on hand for unexpected happenings. On that particular trip we took a plane, a bus, a train and a taxi before we finally reached our destination. Makes for good stories!
On one trip I sat next to a man who was going to Boston for the ribbon cutting of his building. He practiced meditation. We talked all the way across country about meditation and the benefits. He was very interesting. Another time a young man showed all his ink. He was excited to share what he had designed, and the next tattoos he was planning to get. He was studying moths as a profession. One man was selecting hymns for his church service. During one delay I noticed a woman speaking to the agent at the desk. The passenger was upset--crying. After a bit the agent opened the door to the plane and left. I saw the passenger wiping her tears with her sleeve. I had tissues in my purse so I took some to her. Simply handed them to her and walked back to my seat. I could tell that she was very upset so I walked back over and asked if there was anything I could do for her. She said that her mother had died the night before. Suddenly. She was trying to get home. Her cell phone battery was almost dead, and her family was trying to get in touch with her. They were at the funeral home and wanted to know what she thought about all those decisions that have to be made. She needed the charger from her suitcase. I stood with her until the agent returned with the charger.
Traveling by plane these days is almost always an adventure. I board a plane expecting the unexpected realizing that the best laid plans will probably be changed by a coffee maker that isn't working. That happened once--we waited an hour until a person came to repair it!
Happy traveling!
Everyone who purchases an airline ticket wants the same things--for the plane/s to be on time and for luggage to show up all in one piece at the same time you do.
If those two things happen, the trip is bound to be a success. You will have the toothbrush and curling iron that is essential for a good trip, and you will be on time for check-in at the designated hotel. I love it when things go smoothly.
However, things don't always go as planned. On our last return trip, the plane was two hours late due to a situation in a Midwest Airport Traffic Control Tower. How can that be when you are sitting in a Northwest Airport? I can't figure that out. And neither could anyone else who sat with that glassy-eyed look at 7 in the morning. To be there at 7 meant we all had to be up and around by 4:30. But, people were understanding and patient.
We boarded the plane two hours late. That meant those with connecting flights might not arrive in time to make the connection. We were two of those passengers.
We did arrive in time for us to run to the opposite wing of the airport. However, the departure board informed us that our flight was cancelled. No need to hurry. We visited with a customer service rep only to be told there were no flights until the next day. Since we were only three or so hours from home, we rented a car and drove the last one hundred miles.
Not only did that add expense to the trip, but it also meant that the car had to be returned to the airport the next day. And our luggage picked up. This seems to be a usual happening for our trips.
On the trip prior to this one we were seated at the correct gate waiting to board the plane. We kept watching the board to be sure the plane was on time. After one last look we saw that the gate had changed. We literally took off running. This time we had to take a bus across the airport to reach the proper gate. Once inside we started running again.
We were thrilled to see the door to the plane was still open. We raced to the counter and handed our tickets to the agent. He looked at us and then motioned for two stand-by passengers to board the plane. He then turned to us and said since we were not there at that gate fifteen minutes before boarding, he was letting the stand-bys on the plane. We were stunned. I mentioned that we had been at the proper gate and that there was no announcement that the gate had changed. That we had continued to watch the board. And as soon as we saw that it had changed, we took off for this gate. He said we could not board. We were furious. There were two agents at that desk. The other agent was shocked by his partner's actions. After a few minutes I started to laugh at how absurd it was to keep us from boarding. He must have needed to exercise his power. And he did. So, we laughed at our situation and found a way home.
We had a couple of options. Spend the night at the airport or rent a car and drive home. We opted to rent a car. It was a mess as our luggage and car were in an airport over five hours away.
I remember how much fun flying used to be. You got peanuts and coke and even a meal. Granted the meal wasn't gormet, but it was food. Once the flight attendant gave me place mats for all my students. I also remember being given a deck of cards a couple of times. Those were the good times.
Now, people carry on food and drink. I even bought my own blanket as I was sure I would be charged for one on the plane.
It is still the fastest way to get across country. Unless you are caught in a storm. We spent four days in Denver once. Better have a cash reserve on hand for unexpected happenings. On that particular trip we took a plane, a bus, a train and a taxi before we finally reached our destination. Makes for good stories!
On one trip I sat next to a man who was going to Boston for the ribbon cutting of his building. He practiced meditation. We talked all the way across country about meditation and the benefits. He was very interesting. Another time a young man showed all his ink. He was excited to share what he had designed, and the next tattoos he was planning to get. He was studying moths as a profession. One man was selecting hymns for his church service. During one delay I noticed a woman speaking to the agent at the desk. The passenger was upset--crying. After a bit the agent opened the door to the plane and left. I saw the passenger wiping her tears with her sleeve. I had tissues in my purse so I took some to her. Simply handed them to her and walked back to my seat. I could tell that she was very upset so I walked back over and asked if there was anything I could do for her. She said that her mother had died the night before. Suddenly. She was trying to get home. Her cell phone battery was almost dead, and her family was trying to get in touch with her. They were at the funeral home and wanted to know what she thought about all those decisions that have to be made. She needed the charger from her suitcase. I stood with her until the agent returned with the charger.
Traveling by plane these days is almost always an adventure. I board a plane expecting the unexpected realizing that the best laid plans will probably be changed by a coffee maker that isn't working. That happened once--we waited an hour until a person came to repair it!
Happy traveling!
Friday, February 22, 2013
Bloom Where You Are Planted?
Bloom Where You Are Planted--
We have all heard this imperative sentence many times. We might even have spoken those words to someone or perhaps to ourselves.
Well, I am not a fan of that sentence. I think it has holes in it. Too easy to say and too difficult to accomplish.
Would a lovely green fern grow and flourish in the hot desert sun? Would a daffodil blossom above the tree line on a snow covered mountain? I could add many more examples of how it is not always possible to bloom where you are planted.
What about a person? Does where one is planted impact life? Is it possible to reach full potential when the "planted place" is not the desired location?
For some folks adaptability is like a second skin. Put them in the frozen tundra, and they will learn to hunt and fish for food. Or put them in the desert, and they will get excited about learning how to find the watering holes. Each new "planted place" brings a sense of adventure and wonder. They have a willing spirit to see what is out there even when it might not be their first choice. I envy those people.
Then there are others who need specific things to feel alive. It might be a snow covered mountain or a rushing stream filled with trout. It might be a warm beach with miles of white sand waiting to have their footprints pressed into it. It might be a city alive with life, concrete and noise.
Placing a city person on a secluded mountain side would not be in their best interest. Sure, they could bloom. They could adapt. But there would be such real joy if they had the opportunity to return to their beloved city. You see, while we can all adapt, we all know what makes us shine. What makes us alive. What makes us happy.
Blooming means all the elements must be right. If frost comes when flowers are ready to blossom, those tender flowers will die. The plant will not die. But the beauty it produces will be stunted, and that blossom will be lost. It will be another year before that blossom has the opportunity to show itself.
Lucky are those folks who find themselves planted in their choice location. Does that always assure their best growth? Maybe not. But, chances are they will live a happier life because the elements that bring them joy are ever present.
Many of us have been asked to bloom in new locations. Locations very unlike our ideal. Locations that don't speak to our souls. Locations that present new challenges. Maybe the new bloom we produce is different. Perhaps it appears at a different time in our lives. It may look so different from the blossom we are used to seeing and feeling deep inside ourselves. But, it is still a blossom.
Yes, we can bloom. We can shine. We can bring joy. We can accept that our desired location is not our present location and bloom anyway. Is it possible that someone in your location needs to know that they can bloom? Have you experienced disappointment in your location? Could you be that person who helps another who is struggling to find the strength to bloom?
We may not be planted in our desired location, but we can bloom. Brightly.
We have all heard this imperative sentence many times. We might even have spoken those words to someone or perhaps to ourselves.
Well, I am not a fan of that sentence. I think it has holes in it. Too easy to say and too difficult to accomplish.
Would a lovely green fern grow and flourish in the hot desert sun? Would a daffodil blossom above the tree line on a snow covered mountain? I could add many more examples of how it is not always possible to bloom where you are planted.
What about a person? Does where one is planted impact life? Is it possible to reach full potential when the "planted place" is not the desired location?
For some folks adaptability is like a second skin. Put them in the frozen tundra, and they will learn to hunt and fish for food. Or put them in the desert, and they will get excited about learning how to find the watering holes. Each new "planted place" brings a sense of adventure and wonder. They have a willing spirit to see what is out there even when it might not be their first choice. I envy those people.
Then there are others who need specific things to feel alive. It might be a snow covered mountain or a rushing stream filled with trout. It might be a warm beach with miles of white sand waiting to have their footprints pressed into it. It might be a city alive with life, concrete and noise.
Placing a city person on a secluded mountain side would not be in their best interest. Sure, they could bloom. They could adapt. But there would be such real joy if they had the opportunity to return to their beloved city. You see, while we can all adapt, we all know what makes us shine. What makes us alive. What makes us happy.
Blooming means all the elements must be right. If frost comes when flowers are ready to blossom, those tender flowers will die. The plant will not die. But the beauty it produces will be stunted, and that blossom will be lost. It will be another year before that blossom has the opportunity to show itself.
Lucky are those folks who find themselves planted in their choice location. Does that always assure their best growth? Maybe not. But, chances are they will live a happier life because the elements that bring them joy are ever present.
Many of us have been asked to bloom in new locations. Locations very unlike our ideal. Locations that don't speak to our souls. Locations that present new challenges. Maybe the new bloom we produce is different. Perhaps it appears at a different time in our lives. It may look so different from the blossom we are used to seeing and feeling deep inside ourselves. But, it is still a blossom.
Yes, we can bloom. We can shine. We can bring joy. We can accept that our desired location is not our present location and bloom anyway. Is it possible that someone in your location needs to know that they can bloom? Have you experienced disappointment in your location? Could you be that person who helps another who is struggling to find the strength to bloom?
We may not be planted in our desired location, but we can bloom. Brightly.
Saturday, February 9, 2013
No Donut for Me
No Donut for Me--
It had been a very dangerous drive to the donut shop that particular Sunday morning. I left home an hour before church so I could purchase dozens of fresh, hot donuts for those people who needed that sugar lift on a cold winter morning.
It snowed the night before. The interstate had icy patches. Most people were driving in the right lane only. I remember talking to myself as I drove the nearly twenty miles to the donut shop. I questioned my sanity. But, donuts between services had been a hit, and there was no way I was going to have disappointed folks searching everywhere for those warm, melt-in-your-mouth circles of pure sugar. Some things you simply have to do.
The big red sign was on when I drove slowly into the parking lot. That meant the donuts would be hot. And because I arrived while the sign was on, I would be given a free one. I hurried through the door making sure the sign remained on until I was in line. There were a couple of customers in front of me. They each received their free one. Then it was my turn.
I gave the young woman my large order. She turned away to begin filling it. When she walked back to the counter, I asked for my free one. She told me I had not been there before the sign was turned off. I was shocked. Of course I had been there. I told her that yes, I had been in line right behind the person ahead of me, and she got one. She looked at me with a bit of disgust and refused to give me my donut.
What should be one's reaction when one is denied such a treasure after driving on treacherous roads to secure the prize for others? I stood there watching her thinking she might reconsider and offer that delicate dough to me, too. But, she did not do that. Instead she went to work doing whatever people in those jobs do. If stares could get one's attention, she would have turned around to look at me. Stares don't work sometimes.
After paying for the rather large order, I left the store thinking about how unfairly I had been treated. I was just a bit angry. Among other thoughts racing through my head was one about contacting the manager and recounting the sad story to him or her. But, that seemed a bit too much work for one donut. Or maybe I could grab one and run. That might make the Monday newspaper. "Woman from local church steals donut and races out of parking lot." Surely there was a way to right this wrong without breaking the law.
Driving back with my boxes of prizes, a thought appeared in my mind. Maybe she was having a very bad day, and I arrived at the perfect time for her to exercise her power over a situation. She had control over whether or not I would receive that donut, and she decided I wouldn't get it. Her action meant I had a choice. Would I insist on that donut? Make a scene because she refused? Say something nasty?
As you probably know by now, I believe that choices are placed in our path many times everyday. So, in the car on the way back to church, I broke out in laughter. It filled the car. Tears rolled down my face as I thought about how that would have looked to another customer who might have been next in line. An argument over one hot donut?
There was a way to avoid that challenging situation. I would need to leave my house ten minutes earlier so that I was seen in line before that sign was turned off. That is what I did. That extra ten minutes was a sacrifice I was willing to pay. Prayer became my companion as I made future trips for those warm goodies. Prayers that someone else would greet me with a warm donut wrapped in a paper napkin.
As I write this, I am chuckling. Life gives us so many opportunities for growth. We will not always be treated fairly. But we can decide to treat others well no matter what the situation. Even if they refuse to give us the donut that is rightfully ours.
It had been a very dangerous drive to the donut shop that particular Sunday morning. I left home an hour before church so I could purchase dozens of fresh, hot donuts for those people who needed that sugar lift on a cold winter morning.
It snowed the night before. The interstate had icy patches. Most people were driving in the right lane only. I remember talking to myself as I drove the nearly twenty miles to the donut shop. I questioned my sanity. But, donuts between services had been a hit, and there was no way I was going to have disappointed folks searching everywhere for those warm, melt-in-your-mouth circles of pure sugar. Some things you simply have to do.
The big red sign was on when I drove slowly into the parking lot. That meant the donuts would be hot. And because I arrived while the sign was on, I would be given a free one. I hurried through the door making sure the sign remained on until I was in line. There were a couple of customers in front of me. They each received their free one. Then it was my turn.
I gave the young woman my large order. She turned away to begin filling it. When she walked back to the counter, I asked for my free one. She told me I had not been there before the sign was turned off. I was shocked. Of course I had been there. I told her that yes, I had been in line right behind the person ahead of me, and she got one. She looked at me with a bit of disgust and refused to give me my donut.
What should be one's reaction when one is denied such a treasure after driving on treacherous roads to secure the prize for others? I stood there watching her thinking she might reconsider and offer that delicate dough to me, too. But, she did not do that. Instead she went to work doing whatever people in those jobs do. If stares could get one's attention, she would have turned around to look at me. Stares don't work sometimes.
After paying for the rather large order, I left the store thinking about how unfairly I had been treated. I was just a bit angry. Among other thoughts racing through my head was one about contacting the manager and recounting the sad story to him or her. But, that seemed a bit too much work for one donut. Or maybe I could grab one and run. That might make the Monday newspaper. "Woman from local church steals donut and races out of parking lot." Surely there was a way to right this wrong without breaking the law.
Driving back with my boxes of prizes, a thought appeared in my mind. Maybe she was having a very bad day, and I arrived at the perfect time for her to exercise her power over a situation. She had control over whether or not I would receive that donut, and she decided I wouldn't get it. Her action meant I had a choice. Would I insist on that donut? Make a scene because she refused? Say something nasty?
As you probably know by now, I believe that choices are placed in our path many times everyday. So, in the car on the way back to church, I broke out in laughter. It filled the car. Tears rolled down my face as I thought about how that would have looked to another customer who might have been next in line. An argument over one hot donut?
There was a way to avoid that challenging situation. I would need to leave my house ten minutes earlier so that I was seen in line before that sign was turned off. That is what I did. That extra ten minutes was a sacrifice I was willing to pay. Prayer became my companion as I made future trips for those warm goodies. Prayers that someone else would greet me with a warm donut wrapped in a paper napkin.
As I write this, I am chuckling. Life gives us so many opportunities for growth. We will not always be treated fairly. But we can decide to treat others well no matter what the situation. Even if they refuse to give us the donut that is rightfully ours.
Colorful Words
Colorful Words--
Ok--Sometimes I use swear words. Not because I don't have a large vocabulary, but because they fit a particular situation perfectly.
Ok--Sometimes I use swear words. Not because I don't have a large vocabulary, but because they fit a particular situation perfectly.
Friday, February 8, 2013
Destiny--Yes or No?
Destiny--Yes or No?
Do you believe in destiny? It is an interesting question. For some that question interferes with their faith beliefs. For others it is a way of life.
Destiny is defined in the dictionary as the mysterious power that some people believe controls what happens. Another definition states that destiny is the thing that you will do or the type of person you will become in the future.
"Mysterious power." For me that would be the God who desires that I live my life in service to others. That I see need and make an attempt to fill it. That I listen with my heart--listen much more than talk.
That I know in the core of my being that often I am given only one opportunity to make a difference and to take full advantage of it.
So, with all of that said, allow me to share a sweet experience while sitting in the Seattle Airport recently. We had a two hour layover in Seattle on our way to Portland, Oregon. After treating myself to coffee, we found a row of seats and plopped down. We both enjoy guessing where people are going, and who they will see. Many people passed in front of us, and our imaginations ran wild. Most were ordinary folks hurrying to catch the next plane that would fly them to their final destination. Among them were young and old, mothers and babies, young women in very high heels, others in tennis shoes. All had backpacks or roller cases. Many were talking on cell phones.
One man caught our attention. He wore a black felt cowboy hat, cowboy boots, a suit and tie with an overcoat, and carried a beautiful beige leather bag. He walked up the corridor and a few minutes later back down. I do that, too, when in an airport. I often take long walks to keep the blood flowing following a long flight of sitting.
On his last pass in front of us he noticed the chairs where we were seated and came over. As he sat down, he spoke to us. And then he looked at me and told me that his daughter is dying of cancer. I was stunned by his words and moved down the two seats to sit beside him.
I asked him if he wanted to tell me about his daughter. He said yes. She is 31 years old. She has two young children. A little over two years ago she began to have back aches that were more than the regular ones we all have. The doctor she visited told her it was probably nothing and did the usual with muscle relaxants. But the pain did not go away. Several tests later she was diagnosed with incurable cancer. The doctors performed surgery and told he and her mother that her insides looked like tapioca pudding. They were told that all those small tumors would eventually grow into very large ones that would attack all the vital organs. She is now at that point.
He was in Seattle to help a man with a business plan and received a call to come home. She is now in Hospice. Pain management is the medicine of choice. Her time on earth is very limited.
After he shared his story, I told him that I had been a Hospice volunteer, and that it is a wonderful program. His wife had told him the same thing. He told me about all the people who have been praying for the family. Their faith and the love and care of friends and doctors has kept them grounded as they walk this unfamiliar path.
I won't go into all of our conversation, but I will share that at one point I asked him if it would be acceptable with him if we prayed together. His eyes teared as he reached for my hands. We held hands, and I asked for strength to move through the next phase of her life and for people to surround the family with love and care.
Was it destiny that we met in the airport in Seattle? Was it destiny that he told me about his daughter? Was it destiny that we prayed and shared addresses?
I don't know. What I do know is that Eric and I shared one moment in time, and I am forever grateful for the opportunity to listen to his story and offer a tiny bit of caring in a busy airport.
We all have choice. I could have said I was sorry that his daughter is so ill and turned back to people gazing. My choice was to open myself to his story. By doing that I am forever changed. It was only a moment in time amid noise, announcements and airport confusion, but it made a lasting impression on me.
No doubt our paths will never cross again. But I will always remember that precious moment when two people took a chance to communicate on a very deep level.
Do you believe in destiny? It is an interesting question. For some that question interferes with their faith beliefs. For others it is a way of life.
Destiny is defined in the dictionary as the mysterious power that some people believe controls what happens. Another definition states that destiny is the thing that you will do or the type of person you will become in the future.
"Mysterious power." For me that would be the God who desires that I live my life in service to others. That I see need and make an attempt to fill it. That I listen with my heart--listen much more than talk.
That I know in the core of my being that often I am given only one opportunity to make a difference and to take full advantage of it.
So, with all of that said, allow me to share a sweet experience while sitting in the Seattle Airport recently. We had a two hour layover in Seattle on our way to Portland, Oregon. After treating myself to coffee, we found a row of seats and plopped down. We both enjoy guessing where people are going, and who they will see. Many people passed in front of us, and our imaginations ran wild. Most were ordinary folks hurrying to catch the next plane that would fly them to their final destination. Among them were young and old, mothers and babies, young women in very high heels, others in tennis shoes. All had backpacks or roller cases. Many were talking on cell phones.
One man caught our attention. He wore a black felt cowboy hat, cowboy boots, a suit and tie with an overcoat, and carried a beautiful beige leather bag. He walked up the corridor and a few minutes later back down. I do that, too, when in an airport. I often take long walks to keep the blood flowing following a long flight of sitting.
On his last pass in front of us he noticed the chairs where we were seated and came over. As he sat down, he spoke to us. And then he looked at me and told me that his daughter is dying of cancer. I was stunned by his words and moved down the two seats to sit beside him.
I asked him if he wanted to tell me about his daughter. He said yes. She is 31 years old. She has two young children. A little over two years ago she began to have back aches that were more than the regular ones we all have. The doctor she visited told her it was probably nothing and did the usual with muscle relaxants. But the pain did not go away. Several tests later she was diagnosed with incurable cancer. The doctors performed surgery and told he and her mother that her insides looked like tapioca pudding. They were told that all those small tumors would eventually grow into very large ones that would attack all the vital organs. She is now at that point.
He was in Seattle to help a man with a business plan and received a call to come home. She is now in Hospice. Pain management is the medicine of choice. Her time on earth is very limited.
After he shared his story, I told him that I had been a Hospice volunteer, and that it is a wonderful program. His wife had told him the same thing. He told me about all the people who have been praying for the family. Their faith and the love and care of friends and doctors has kept them grounded as they walk this unfamiliar path.
I won't go into all of our conversation, but I will share that at one point I asked him if it would be acceptable with him if we prayed together. His eyes teared as he reached for my hands. We held hands, and I asked for strength to move through the next phase of her life and for people to surround the family with love and care.
Was it destiny that we met in the airport in Seattle? Was it destiny that he told me about his daughter? Was it destiny that we prayed and shared addresses?
I don't know. What I do know is that Eric and I shared one moment in time, and I am forever grateful for the opportunity to listen to his story and offer a tiny bit of caring in a busy airport.
We all have choice. I could have said I was sorry that his daughter is so ill and turned back to people gazing. My choice was to open myself to his story. By doing that I am forever changed. It was only a moment in time amid noise, announcements and airport confusion, but it made a lasting impression on me.
No doubt our paths will never cross again. But I will always remember that precious moment when two people took a chance to communicate on a very deep level.
Tuesday, February 5, 2013
Taking Time
Taking Time--
HURRY, HURRY, HURRY.
We all seem to be in constant motion. So many places we have to be and so little time to get there. Run the children to practices, attend meetings, keep the house in order, pay bills, answer email/texts. These and other activities fill every waking minute of our lives. You will notice I left out homework and other daily activities. There are simply too many to make a full list.
It is good to be busy with positive endeavors. It is good to help children grow to their absolute most. It is good to attend meetings especially when the boss is present. It is good to answer emails/texts. Keeping in contact with others is a way to maintain relationships.
Recently I was in a business and had the opportunity to engage in conversation with a woman older than I am. She made the first overture toward connecting. What she needed to share with another human was that she was lonely. She said she goes to businesses just for the noise. She feels more alive. She is a widow. In only a few minutes we shared how life can change in an instant and how that leaves us to reorder our lives. She shared that in the evening she is lonely and needs to be around activity. We laughed and visited. It was a wonderful exchange between two strangers who took the time to slow down and visit.
A little later on that same evening I saw a woman trying to move her wheelchair but there were obstacles in the way. Walking over to her, I asked how I might help. She told me what she needed. It was so simple. In a moment she had what she needed, and I was on my way. That encounter made me wonder how often I have walked by people who have needs yet never saw.
I have been praying this year that my life will be used for the good of others. That I will be more than I have been in the past. When I say this, I am not meaning in large ways. Often the most needs are met in simple things. Praying this means that I must be ever watchful for ways I can be of service. Sometimes I forget. But on those times when I remember my prayer, the blessings are almost overwhelming. You see, I know that moment shared with the widow was a good thing for her--and for me. I also know that helping the woman in the wheelchair gave her what she needed.
I am more aware than ever that my time on earth is limited. I suppose that comes with age. It is a very good thing to be aware of the simple needs of others and offer a little time to help.
Taking time--What does that mean to you?
HURRY, HURRY, HURRY.
We all seem to be in constant motion. So many places we have to be and so little time to get there. Run the children to practices, attend meetings, keep the house in order, pay bills, answer email/texts. These and other activities fill every waking minute of our lives. You will notice I left out homework and other daily activities. There are simply too many to make a full list.
It is good to be busy with positive endeavors. It is good to help children grow to their absolute most. It is good to attend meetings especially when the boss is present. It is good to answer emails/texts. Keeping in contact with others is a way to maintain relationships.
Recently I was in a business and had the opportunity to engage in conversation with a woman older than I am. She made the first overture toward connecting. What she needed to share with another human was that she was lonely. She said she goes to businesses just for the noise. She feels more alive. She is a widow. In only a few minutes we shared how life can change in an instant and how that leaves us to reorder our lives. She shared that in the evening she is lonely and needs to be around activity. We laughed and visited. It was a wonderful exchange between two strangers who took the time to slow down and visit.
A little later on that same evening I saw a woman trying to move her wheelchair but there were obstacles in the way. Walking over to her, I asked how I might help. She told me what she needed. It was so simple. In a moment she had what she needed, and I was on my way. That encounter made me wonder how often I have walked by people who have needs yet never saw.
I have been praying this year that my life will be used for the good of others. That I will be more than I have been in the past. When I say this, I am not meaning in large ways. Often the most needs are met in simple things. Praying this means that I must be ever watchful for ways I can be of service. Sometimes I forget. But on those times when I remember my prayer, the blessings are almost overwhelming. You see, I know that moment shared with the widow was a good thing for her--and for me. I also know that helping the woman in the wheelchair gave her what she needed.
I am more aware than ever that my time on earth is limited. I suppose that comes with age. It is a very good thing to be aware of the simple needs of others and offer a little time to help.
Taking time--What does that mean to you?
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