*Disclaimer: No transitions, mostly just stream of consciousness.
I recently saw (again) one student rush to another who was struggling up the steep sidewalk in her wheel chair. The young man immediately grasped the back of her chair, and began to push, making conversation.
I love seeing these moments; I wish I could see more—it really is love. As I was strolling behind, I wondered why I keep noticing these people with physical handicaps. Then, more importantly, I wondered if I was missing those who are otherwise impaired: mentally tired, emotionally amputated, spiritually blind, etc. I realized I’m often wrapped up in my own little world, complaining about my own little crutches. (Seminar helps me realize this too.) Who am I not helping, loving?
But who is not impaired in some way? We are all broken. Christ does the mending, but aren’t we to be the tools?
I’ve seen His work done in the Writing Center. Most of the time they are the littlest acts imaginable—but they matter. Maybe every day someone crosses our path that we could help and love.
I work with people, not robots. Tell me your stories.
Here is a quick story:
-My bishop in my student ward asked me if I could take a few students to eat with my family for Thanksgiving, because they had no place to go. Of course I consented, and, when we finished eating today, I said: “Okay, we can go—of course, you can stay if you want, but my family IS loud.”
To my surprise, one girl said: “Actually, I’d like to stay, if you don’t mind. I’ll just be alone in my apartment otherwise.”
I was afraid. I don’t have the talent of talking easily to people with whom I am unfamiliar. Our conversations had, to this point, consisted of general information-leaking. Surely she wanted to get back to her normal life, and resume her hopes and worries. But really, she wanted to stay. So, we drove back up to Rexburg to drop off the other students. Then I made a friend with the girl who stayed with me. We engaged in real conversation, sang songs, and laughed on the way back.-
Because I got to know her, I saw her as a real person, and then I began to care, to love. I made another one of those desirable connections I can’t describe yet.
I wish I could take each of you that work at the writing center on a similar trip. I want to know you, to love you, because when that connection exists, it is real life we are living. I'm not affraid of you anymore. I have time to listen, and my ‘hopes and worries’ can wait. They might even be similar to yours. But I don’t know that yet. I already feel connections to some of you, but not all of you. You are real people in this life we sometimes take for granted or treat casually. If I am going to know you, if you are going to be in my life, let me KNOW you.
Who are you?