pain
I have always been a detail-oriented person. Even as a child, I often arranged, then rearranged my room, toys, clothes or what have you until everything was just right. In a freaky kind of way ordering my possessions became a comfort to me. Even now, I can pretty much walk into any area of my home and put my hand right on something I am looking for…as long as I have followed my most natural instinct which is use it, clean it up, store it in its “home” for next time.
Being a detailed person I am always on a schedule, but have prided myself on seeing things people don’t usually see and noticing things that often pass others by in their rush from one place to another, one activity to another. It’s what has made me a great cleaning company owner since I can see dirt that even a customer doesn’t observe in her own home. Beyond this I can also “see” a future need she may have by perceiving the condition of her home on the day of the walk through when we meet for the first time and I view the home. One of the most difficult tasks has been to train my techs and managers to have “eyes to see”. Challenging…but there are those rare times when I have a cleaning tech who meets or even surpasses my own skills in detection. Those are the techs who have garnered a skill for a lifetime…the ability to see the invisible, and they had learned it from my detailed training. So rewarding…
Today was a day of hectic running from place to place. I had several errands and stops to make, but with a list in hand, had made very good progress on a nippy but totally beautiful day. Inside, I was feeling so good about my accomplishment. List was whittling down, the Christmas and food shopping was nearing an end, and I was ready to head to my warm and welcoming bungalow after one more quick stop at a local grocery store. Walking across the parking lot, I was overwhelmed by the loveliness of the day, and deeply breathed in the crisp air making me feel even more alert and aware of everything around me. As I drew near the store’s entrance I glimpsed one of my favorite seasonal sights…the bell-ringing Salvation Army bucket guy. Many of these men and women have fallen on hard times, some are recovering addicts, some once homeless were given a helping hand by this organization, and manning the bucket was a payback of sorts. Taking a regrettable life or circumstance and helping someone turn it into a recovered and reconciled life…what a great ministry to the lost souls and wandering outcasts.
I dug into my pocket and found a dollar to drop in, and then I realized he wasn’t ringing a bell…he was playing the guitar instead. “How cool is that” I thought. My husband, Dwight, had filled our home many times with the sweet strains of an old hymn or long ago ballad, and the sound of an acoustic guitar brings many fond memories to surface when I hear it. How lucky I was to have caught an impromptu Christmas concert today!
The money was shoved into the top of the bucket, followed by the man’s softly uttered “Merry Christmas”. I answered back a return greeting over my shoulder as the automatic doors opened, grabbed a basket and headed to find the items I needed. The one place I didn’t want to be was a busy store as the noon hour approached. As I checked out, I found myself hoping the man was still playing when I left the store so I could maybe catch a little more of the guitar sounds that would put me in a cheery mood.. As I went out of the doors, I glanced over and saw him putting his coat on. He had laid the guitar down and picked up the bell and was walking over to the bucket. I wasn’t going to stop since there was no guitar…that was what I really wanted to hear and see…but as I pushed the basket by I said ” The guitar is different and a nice touch instead of the bell.” “Yes, it is,” he said quietly.” I hadn’t intended to really stop and converse. But something in his voice stopped me and just to be polite for a moment, I held onto the basket and nodded down at the guitar ” Have you been playing long?”. He hesitated, then told me he had played for years and really loved being able to share the guitar with others, ending with ” I love the guitar.” I answered that I do too, told him in a sentence or two that my husband was a player and had a 12 string ovation…then ended the statement with ” We love guitars because they love us back and don’t demand anything from us” as I started to push past him and go to the car. He agreed and as I began to say Merry Christmas once more and head to the car I finally looked up at the man’s face for the first time….and I was quickly moved to tears but fought them back. He had turned away to speak to the next person that came up with money and I realized…I recognized this young man…but I had not noticed that till the very moment I looked into his face. As I drove home, a sadness surrounded me…I recognized him, yes…but I didn’t know him…
How many times have I rushed by someone and not “noticed”? How many times has pride made me think I have it all together, I am a shining example, my life is one to be emulated and admired…when all the time the important things and people and their needs have been overshadowed by my agenda and pitiful and paltry needs? Did I give only to look good to others, for adulation…or was my giving only offered to those who demanded nothing and gave me only adoration and love in return for any bit of attention and time I may bestow on them that “fit the schedule”? What ministry opportunities did I miss when I rigidly stuck to my plan, my schedule and my itinerary rather than taking the time to see the true details of life, and notice the unnoticeable?
Life’s quilt is made of many fabrics…snippets of time, milliseconds of conversations, and enduring patterns of moments whose pieces are sewn together with delicate, and many times self-sacrificing, threads. I think more often than not, we become the delicate threads that are placed in others’ lives to sew them back together, stitching them into the real and truly blessed life they are meant to lead, even when they may have chosen a bargain basement life for themselves instead. But just as sewing in poor light can make you blind, and sloppy stitches make a quilt that will fall apart quickly, it is important to take care of our spiritual eyes and train ourselves to really see. It is just as vital to take the time to make tiny well-placed stitches in the lives of others by the seemingly insignificant gestures we may make because we took the time to see the details in another’s life. The cry for a kindly spoken word, a handshake and quick smile, or other small gesture that will turn a life around will only be seen by those willing to give notice to the unnoticeable.
I am one of the unfortunate sufferers of arthritis and osteoporosis. The effects of both these conditions have pretty much been a part of my life in one way or other since my late teens, early 20’s. At first, my parents thought it was traditional “growing pains”, so we pretty much ignored it as such and went on. But as I left my teens and entered my 20’s I started having some really odd pains…most mornings it was hard to get out of bed.
I found I couldn’t do the common things of a 20 year old…it was an effort to pick up my baby, my hands would “give out”, or my upper arms some mornings had virtually no strength in them, seemingly overnight. My feet had what I called heel spurs, but looking back I can see it was where the osteoporosis had set in. Not the normal physical life of a 20 year old. I plodded through it and played more with my daughter on the more mobile days, and cut back activity on others when we sat and read a lot or watched the tube, due to my aching joints and bones. But once I entered the 30’s, the pain had become debilitating more days than not, so off I trotted to the doctor, and thus the diagnosis all those years ago.
Several different medicines have been tried, but not being much for synthetic answers, I pretty much have just “adjusted” to the pain and difficulty in my body as the years have rolled on. Now at the age of “over 50”, there is pain every day, all day, in more than one spot of my body and that is my norm. Frankly most of the time I push through it and don’t even really notice it until it gets outside the pain level I have grown accustomed to all these years.
This week, I decided to change my daily routine. I had begun working at home the last couple of months pretty much exclusively and although I am a very organized person, I kept finding myself kind of drifting from one activity to another during the day and not getting as much accomplished as I desired and knew I could complete. I also seemed to be running out of time to just be myself and do some personal things I love such as read the Kindle on the back deck. So I sat down with pencil and paper, jotted down a tentative scheduling of my time and necessary daily activities, and placed those in general slots of time during the day. I wanted to create a new “normal” schedule for myself since the “normal” I have had for many years was no longer existent when I came back home to work, rather than going to an office every day.
All week, I have been on schedule and now that it is Friday it is actually starting to kind of feel “normal”. I marvel over the things I am accomplishing. I am marveling more over being able to stop at a certain time of the day, just like in an office setting, and fix my dinner, watch TV, read, rest or whatever I want to do for a slot of hours in my evening, rather than working till bedtime because I took 5 minutes here and 15 there during the day and “got behind” on things I really needed to complete for the day trying to grab moments of personal time of reflection and rest. I am more focused, I am more energized, and even my body is responding by getting more physical rest in longer segments, which could do nothing but aid in my health issues, right?
What I have found most interesting is this…
I have spent years working in my business. Many hours were willingly put in and very much enjoyed because the business was growing and so was I. I was meeting new people, being recognized in my community and among my peers, becoming a spokesperson for my industry. My new “normal” was getting up, working till bed with a few moments sprinkled through the day here and there of personal or family time, and doing it all over the next day. Prior to this working career, I had been a stay-at-home mom that worked at home, was in my yard and gardens for about 30 hours a week ( my passion), worked in my church, cooked every day, made bread, and did all those things that I adored doing for my family. A sad divorce forced me into the work world, and I adapted to it quickly and loved it, too…but the things that were once “normal” for me became the “abnormal”, and stayed that way for many years.
When I got up this morning at 6, I started thinking about my life now, and what my “normal” is now…and more what my “normal” today should be. As I took my morning walk, I thought about how my joint pain over the years had grown to a point that what was once thought of as terribly paralyzing “growing pains”, were tiny compared to the pain I now feel in my body as the norm each day. It truly does paralyze me in many ways and make me incapable of living a “normal” life for my age. I had let pain and difficulty physically become my “normal”. Nowadays, some pretty severe pain has to come along to slap me and say “hey you, you have some real physical issues here that need to be addressed. This isn’t just something you have to go through…a “growing pain”…it is out of the NORMAL…do something about it”.
How many of us, I wonder, have let sad situations, people who are jerks that consistently disrespect us by their words or behavior, or personal hardship and fear become our “normal” because it was looked upon as a “growing pain”…just something you have to go through, everyone does… it is “normal”…
Maybe it’s time for each of us to take a good long look at the life we lead, who we allow into it, what activities and priorities are part of the DNA of our today. Have we allowed people, emotions, beliefs or any number of “abnormal” things become our “normal” through disregard of the pain they may be causing us, and have caused us over the years? Is it time for us to change our perception? Or, even more… is it time to take a look at our pain head on, decide what has taken the value of our life and turned it into a devaluing thing…and then make a shift back to our kind of “normal”?
It might be that going back to our “normal” is the real growing pain we need to experience today.