Friday Thought : Single Mothers Need Help, Too

I recently read a short articleAZsdf, “Do it for the Plot.” The article is about purpose. It states, 

"Whatever path we take, we are always confronted with the same question eventually:

Does my path (my life) make a good story? Does my narrative make sense? Is the narrative the one I hoped for, or at least, is it worth telling?

And if the answer is “no,” we are consumed by the regret, disappointment and bitterness of “the unlived life.” If the answer is “yes,” we can at least die knowing we gave it our best shot.

I don't know about you, but I am never content with the idea of leaving life unlived. I want to embrace my experiences, deeply learn from every engagement, and make a difference in the world around me. I want to do GREAT things! This also means I am often discontent. Mostly when I’m tasked with trudging through the mundane or seemingly insignificant tasks for they seem exactly that - mundane and insignificant.

Especially in the development and telling of my good story.

But then, this week, my wife was out of town and I was tasked with caring for our five children. Rather quickly, instead of a #DoGreatThings mindset, I was slowly reduced to a #SimplySurvive mindset. Especially after getting sick. Suddenly, I didn't care about living a good story or changing the world. I simply tried my best not to puke, forget a child somewhere, or lose my patience too quickly. 

And it convicted me. Single mothers need help, too.

We don't need to accomplish big and mighty things in order to have a compelling and purposeful life. We simply need to help. For although we may not tell the story of how we brought dinner to the single mother down the road or share with friends how we covered a shift for a coworker so they could run home and make dinner for their kids, that doesn't mean those stories aren't being shared, that they don't matter.

They may be boring and rather blah stories for us to tell, but for those we helped and served and provided a moment of reprieve for, those simple acts of service are the very moments, the very stories, that encourage and inspire them. They’re the stories that help keep them going. And they are their favorite stories to tell. 

They are also our favorite stories to hear.

Stories of service, when people step into moments of need and give a bit of their humanity remind us that it is the small and simple acts of kindness that move and change the world, not the grandiose. 

Helping the single mother won’t make the local news or circulate on social media. It doesn’t make a good story because it doesn’t change the world. But it can change hers and the little hearts she cares for. It can change their story.

And these moments are everywhere, all the time. But we miss them when we are consumed with our story. When, like the article asks us to, we are more concerned with the plot of our story than we are the characters in it.

For as Chis McCandless, the ultimate adventure-seeker and plot-builder discovered far too late,

happiness - life - things

are only real - only purposeful,

when shared.

Just like a good story.

That's what I've been thinking about this week.

#doGREATthings!

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Friday Thoughts : Blog

Friday Thought : The Right thing to do

Recently, a teacher was struggling with a difficult decision. Help another, or help herself. Without much deliberation, she chose to help another.

"You okay?" I asked.

"No." She said, "But it's the right thing to do." And then, with a smile on her face, she accepted the burden that was not hers to bear and went about her day.

This short interaction encouraged the hell out of me. It also reminded me of a situation that happened a few weeks ago with two of my struggling students.

One student (let’s call him Shawn) spent an hour or so walking around my table, purposefully pumping into and kicking my chairs, and generally being pissed off. When he finally sat down, I tried talking with him. He wanted no part of it.

“You only get this way when something is bothering you,” I said. “So what happened?”

He said nothing.

“I heard you had a rough weekend,” I continued, “You wanna tell me about it?”

He started to speak, in half sentences, sharing about the weekend he had at a distant relative’s house. “She was so mean,” he said, speaking of his cousin, but he couldn’t really articulate why or how. He did, however, begin to get worked up again. Until another student joined us in my office.

When little Timmy (not his real name) entered the office, I wasn’t shocked. He was a cute little kid with little structure at home, zero discipline, and was routinely off his meds. He had been in and out of my office all morning, but this time, I didn’t have time for him.

Shawn, however, did.

“I need to go help in the cafeteria” I said. Which was true. We were down several aides that day and we needed extra hands and eyes on the kiddos as they ate their lunch. “Shawn,” I said, “I need you to watch over Timmy.” Which was not true. My secretary and the counselor were nearby and could easily have taken over. But I had a plan.

“Shawn,” I said again, grabbing some books, blank pieces of papers, and a few crayons, “I need you to read or draw with Timmy so I can go help in the cafeteria. Can you do that for me?” He didn’t really answer, just grunted, and moved towards the table. I left.

Over the next couple hours, I checked in on Shawn and Timmy but didn’t interrupt because they were doing great! Shawn even worked on his homework as he helped Timmy draw and color. You could hear their laughter throughout the whole office.

Then, after bringing Timmy back to his class, Shawn was finally ready to talk.

Shawn didn’t need to sit and focus on his needs, on how he was hurt and frustrated. Nor did he need me to remove tasks and responsibilities from his day. He needed to get outside himself, to consider another, and to get to work. He needed a bigger purpose.

When we’re only thinking about ourselves we only think about ourselves. But when we consider others, when we see beyond our pain and sorrow and frustrations we see that there are others who are in need. Helping them gives us purpose and a better more clearer perspective.

“No,” my teacher said, knowing full well what the extra work and stress was going to mean for her. But she also knew would it would mean for the one she was enduring it for. “It’s the right thing to do,” she said, truly joyful.

Because it was. Because it is.