Questions and Water

For those of you that don’t know, I live on a farm. That bit of information may answer many questions for a lot of you. Last night my honey comes in and begins to explain, “the well has stop working." I reply "ok honey".
When I don’t understand what my honey is talking about I reply with "ok honey".
His statement didn’t mean much to me, until I got in the shower this morning.

Just a few drops trickle out of the nozzle, as I stand fully soaped.
The shower head, struggles to spit out the last bit of water. I begin to consider asking more questions when I encounter something I don’t understand.

I survive the water less shower and head to town. I am scheduled to meet a new neighbor. I really love this part of my life. I love seeing the new faces and learning their story. I arrive at the school and park, before I go in I decide to look in the mirror. I glance at my hair and decide it doesn’t look too bad, considering I didn't have enough water to rinse out the shampoo.

As I enter the school, I begin looking for the check in desk. I am greeted by a counselor. She extends her hand and I express how happy I am to meet her. She leads me to the room I am looking for, and I respond with “thank you”. As I walk in I see a small frail stature. It is a young lady, she slowly lifts her head. No eye contact is made and that tells me one thing, I must ask the right questions.  As she looks my way all I can mutter is, "Wow you sure are pretty". She looks at me and smiles.

I begin by talking of my morning shower and ask if they would like a hug. I can see that this puts her at ease. We talk basics as I fill out a form. Our facilitator is called out of the room and it gives me some time to ask the more questions. First I ask of her little one and her eyes sparkle as she responds. I ask if she is married or single and she begins to speak of her life.

We get to the question when I ask what the last grade completed is. I see shame and she quickly blurts, "I was being touched by my mother’s boyfriend". She continues, "I didn’t have a choice, I had to leave". Then she tells me she finished the 8th grade and my heart weakens.

I ask where she works and she looks like she is going to cry but she replies anyway, "I am a dancer”. I tell her, if I looked like you I would probably dance too". She smiles. I begin to tell her my friend Donna's story and I notice her posture is changing. I tell her we will start with whatever she feels comfortable with and she nods in agreement.

She has signed up to work on her GED but she tells me she struggles with reading and would really like to start there. I tell her that would be great. We talk more and she says "maybe I can learn how to use a computer". I tell her of course she will, well because all nurses need to learn how to work a computer. She smiles again and my heart is warmed once more.

My day continues as I sit in my office. It is now 4:00 and I am just eating my lunch. Through the wall I can hear a baby. It doesn't take long before I abandon my food to get up and go ask some questions. It is a mommy and 14th month old baby that sit in my lobby. I make my way and sit in a chair next to them.

They became homeless after her husband lost his job and nothing has been quite the same since. I tell her I will sit with her for a while. I pick up the baby and notice that this baby hasn’t been bathed. I glance at the momma and decide her hair looks somewhat like mine. The struggle of no water.

Todd enters the room with milk and diapers in hand. My pain is obvious without words being uttered. He comes near, sits on the floor and calls this little one over. I watch as his gold locks settle in Todd's arms. With big beautiful blue eyes the baby looks towards his mom, as if to ask for permission to play. Still no words and yet the burden is understood. He hands the child a small white bear, the child reaches for it and embraces with strength. No child should have this struggle. This baby has been doing without milk, only because the right questions hadn't been asked.
Our hearts are heavy, it is five and we get to go home.

May you always have many questions and plenty of water.

Elia Moreno

How to Listen by Glenda Moore

Dear Elia,

I have often listened to and judged others who seemed to be in the mode of "helping". I have recently learned that I seem to have the same flaw that I judge others for. I say too much and listen too little. I don't see them. I see me.

This morning we went to church and like any other Sunday we went to the same class that we normally do. As we entered we noticed that the tables had been rearranged. This made me uncomfortable. I was pushed out of my comfort zone as I tried to figure out where we would "normally" sit.

I saw a familiar face and said, "Hello, how are you?"
The reply put me in that "uncomfortable" zone. He said he wasn't good. He said, "I lost my job three weeks ago". He had two seats right next to him. That wasn't where we had ever sat before.

I told him I would be praying for him and went to sit at a table. It didn't feel right. That pesky thing was poking me with a sharp needle at the back of my brain and heart.

Finally I turned and looked at my husband and said, "Let's go sit next to Jack". We sat and I started over. "What kind of work are you looking for, Jack?" Jack quickly replied that he was willing to work fast food or anywhere. The job he'd just lost was because he couldn't lift heavy things any longer. His diabetes is worsening. His health is dwindling.

We paused for a bit of silence and he talked about his mother and his brothers.

The class teacher began delivering his message and my heart and ears were opened. I wondered if Jack was listening to the teacher or if his heart was so torn up that he couldn't concentrate. I wondered what to do next. I prayed that God would show me.

As class wrapped up I asked Jack for his address and phone number. He said his phone was not working but gave me his address. I gave him your number, Elia. I told him you might be able to help him. I asked him if he had food. He said no. I said that Cody and I would bring him some today.

As church came to a close, a woman I hadn't ever seen before approached me. She said, "Did I hear you ask that man if he had groceries?" I nodded in surprise. "Here. I want to contribute." She handed me $20. "Thank you for listening to him. God bless you."

Jack seemed surprised to see us at his door. His beautiful smile penetrated my heart and fed my soul.

I am thankful today for new eyesight and new ears. Elia, yesterday, hearing you ask Ashley her hopes and dreams not only trained me but renewed me. So very many times I say the wrong things. I forget how to listen, how to see. Thank you for your eyes, thank you for your ears.

Anguish

Anguish: noun. 1. excruciating or acute distress, suffering, pain

How do we make this a better place to live in? A place where we withhold judgment, a place where children are safe and valued, a place where all people matter.

This morning as I drop my child off at school. I watch as the cross guard comes over to help him. I notice a car headed in his direction but no concern. After all my son is with a crossing guard on a cross walk. Well the mother driving was so concerned, with making sure her child made it in the building, that she was not paying attention to my child, who was in front of her car. 

Are we so concerned with what is ours that we pay no mind to others?

I think back to yesterday, it was a full day, many calls and everyone stating “it’s an emergency”.  A young mother that escaped domestic violence is in need. She stayed in a shelter but fell through the cracks and was not assigned a case worker. She finally found a place to live and also found a job. She now lives in a trailer with no windows, no heat, no air and no gas. This home with a roof that is about to collapse, shelters her and her four boys. 

Is the land lord so concerned about taking care of his own that others don't matter?

My 12:00 o'clock emergency is having lunch with my husband, the birthday boy.  I have to run across town to have lunch but I figure you only turn 21 once. Well my honey has actually turned 21 about 23 times.  I get to the restaurant and wait for him to arrive.

My phone rings and it is a father on the other end. With anguish, he tells me his 14 year old son was caught with drugs at school. He is calling to ask for help. He needs help figuring out the consequences his son will face. He has many questions. What will his son be charged with? Will his son serve time? Will his son be able to go back to school? Will there be fees? Will he need an attorney?  

With anguish in my voice, I respond, "I don't know". The father is distraught as he does not know what to do. He so desperately wants to help his son but he doesn’t know how. I so desperately want to help his son but I too, don’t know how.

 We exchange many phone calls throughout the day.  I call the school and rally support.  On our final conversation of the day, the father asks me more questions. This time there is tenderness and love seeps through his failing voice. He wants to know where he has gone wrong. He wants to know how he has failed. He wants to know what he can do different.

 He wants to help his son but he doesn’t seem to wear the right clothes or drive the right car. He doesn’t have the right job and he doesn’t know middle class language. He doesn’t have a title or an education.   So does this mean his son should be forgotten?

 Where have we gone wrong? Where have we failed? What can we do different? I imagine the child sitting in his cell, knowing his parents do not have the knowledge to help him. Will the system take over and count him as lost?

What if it was one of our own children, what would we do then?

I am reminded that I can’t help everyone! It’s a good thing I don’t follow instruction well.

This morning, I went to court with the family. As I entered the building, the family sees me. The mother rises and goes out to greet me. I tell her I am here for support because that is all I know to do. We all sit quietly outside the court room. We wait, what seems like hours. A group of people begin to enter the court room and we all follow. As we walk in they tell us they will call in one family at a time. I ask the attorney, if I will be able to go in with the family? He asks who I am. I tell him "My name is Elia Moreno. I am the Community Engagement Coordinator for Cal Farley's Boys Ranch". The atmosphere changes as I am acknowledge because I have a title, he replies with a polite "yes ma'am". 

 It is our turn and we walk in, I follow the young boy as he goes to sit in front of the judge. The attorney is requesting that this child be detained for two weeks. I see the childs face and hope quickly departs. I see defeat in his posture and in his eyes I can see his spirit is crushed.

The Judge asks some questions and then he allows the father to speak. I ask for permission to stand as I translate.I am allowed, The father tells me to tell the judge that he will do all that he can to get help for his child. He pleads on his childs behalf. He ask that he please spare his child.

I stand to speak on his behalf but it is my heart that is audible and my passion that is heard. The attorney changes his mind and decides maybe detaining him would not be best. The Judge agrees and sets him free. This is life changing for this family, they will succeed because they now feel as if maybe they do matter.

 We travel to the detention center where they will release the child.  After a process we walk out of the building. Once outside I am certain my emotions will take over. We stand in a circle and I am allowed to pray with the family. I open my mouth but I can not speak.

 We stand in sweet silence.

 “Love your Neighbor as yourself”

James 2:8

My Educator

So yesterday on my way home, I begin thinking of all that waits for me at home dinner, laundry, dishes. 

I quickly become overwhelmed. I glance over at my day’s unfinished work, as it sits in the passenger seat beside me.

How will I fit it all in? Why am I so behind? What has caused my day to fly by?  I quickly remember an MRI this morning.

My runner has an injured knee and instead of being a Lifechanger this morning, I spent time being a mommy.

In my thoughts my list continues to grow. I see the turn off ahead and take it knowing Wal-Mart will soon be in sight.

I park and hurry inside. I grab a crooked cart and head to gather items, for an event I am attending tomorrow morning.

I have picked up speed and I am now shopping like they are giving away the stuff I throw in my basket.

I look at the time and my heart stops. It is 6:02 and I remember I have a speaking engagement at 6:00.

I rush like a mad woman and head towards the register. I want to leave the basket and rush out the door but I don’t

want to cause the employees more work. I decide I will pay for what I have in the basket and then return for the rest.

I pick up my cell and dial the place where I will be speaking. I instantly notice a missed call from that number.  My hearts sinks.

I dial anyway and as I hear a hello, I begin to apologize and assure her of my arrival. Next I call my husband and

explain that I will not be home for dinner. Then I call my daughter and tell her to meet me in town with my material in hand.

  

My quest for the next 3 minutes is to reach my destination.

My hair looks much like a birds nest and I decide I probably don’t smell too good by this time of the day.

All of the sudden I’m hungry, thirsty and suddenly have to visit the ladies room as well. 

Oh no, I have a family that is awaiting groceries.

The educator, I text her and inform her that I will have to meet her after my speaking is done.

She replies with “no problem”.

I arrive and apologize for my tardiness. I relax when I see that I am merely missing the meal portion of this program.

I sit and regroup while I wait for my turn to speak. I think of my shopping and the family I will be shopping for.

I connected with her earlier and asked that she send me a list of the things she is in need of. I pick up my phone to review her list.  

Her list includes bread, milk, ham and chips. I read it again and decide that isn’t good enough. I have a problem with this humble list.

You see this woman is an educator. She spends her days pouring in to our children and four items, no not good enough.

This family has been doing without because they hit a rough patch and it just isn’t right that they continue to do without.

They give me the floor and I begin to speak. I stand before an audience of individuals that seem quite bewildered by my very presence.

I believe there is concern. Rest assured it is nothing my heart can't fix. I start with “My White Skirt”.

I tell of a battered woman, her abusive husband, her children and their survival. I speak of the children’s brokenness and of

of my own brokenness. I explain that I can not be silent. I tell them that I must speak, for those that can not speak for themselves.

I speak of Hope and I see tears. A cloud begins to fill the room, one of compassion and motivation.

I am no longer a stranger, I now belong. 

I am part of this family. I am accepted and it is no longer I but we.

I finish up, express my thanks and bid my farewell.

I leave to connect with my educator. I ask her to meet me a Wal-Mart. I want her to  pick out what she needs.

We go in the store and she asks like a child if she can have a piece of sausage. My heart aches as I respond “yes”. My humble sweet educator

has reached a point where she has to ask for food. I weaken. We walk a little further and again she asks permission. 

The ache that began in my heart now covers my body.

I am humbled by her kindness and her humility. I am honored to take part in this giving. She assures me that this too shall pass.

I thank her for having the courage to call. I assure her that everything will be held in confidence. I hug her and we head to our homes.

I get in my car and I thank God for all the need I have had in my life. I thank God for empathy and compassion.

I am suddenly thankful for dinner, laundry and dishes.

 

If we feed everyone we can,  If we clothe with the best that we have

and we give all that we have

but don't do it in love, we've done nothing.

 

Don't Give Up

 

I was up most of the night and this morning I wake up exhausted.
So much so, that I did not make it in to work till after lunch. I decide I need some therapy and my therapy is deep cleaning my home.
I find myself standing in the middle of my house and wondering where to start. Again I feel overwhelmed.
So much to clean, I don't even know where to start. I start anyway and it's not long before
I see progress.
I often tell people that I missed my calling. I would of been an amazing maid. I love to clean and not just surface clean but
I love to deep clean, closets, under beds and dresser drawers.
I think what I really like about deep cleaning is the end result. I like to see progress.

This summer I have been deep cleaning, not a home but what I do and how I do it. I have been cleaning up my process.
There are only so many hours in a day and I want to make sure I am using them wisely.
My time is so consumed that I haven't even had a chance to read or write, in a couple of months.

I have been deep in thought for days, trying to figure out what I could do better. How I could create more time?
How I could use my time more efficiently? I've been asking for wisdom.

My husband and I are hard core high school sports fans.
We go to high school sport events even if our kids are not participating.
One day we make plans to travel out of town, to watch a game.
We get dressed and we are ready to go. We head out the door and notice our
barn door open. We get in the car and drive over to the barn. I tell him, 'Honey I'll get it."
He parks in front of the barn door. I get out and walk around the front of the car. He decides to get out to help but forgets to put the car in park.
You probably already have it figured out.
The car moves forward and runs over me. I am under the car yelling, he panics. He quickly gets back in the car, puts the car in reverse and runs over me a second time.
Because he so desperately wanted to help me he reacted without thinking it through. What he did, to try and help, actually hurt me.

Like me this summer, I have been so  eager to help many that I have just been reacting and not thinking it through. The numbers are overwhelming that at times

I have applied band-aids when more was needed.
This morning I was reminded of my life's purpose. I am a servant, placed here to serve. I work under the philosophy that every child and parent have the right to be prepared to go to college. Education is the answer and steering from this truth is not helping, it is hurting the people I serve.
This sleepless night allowed me to see that I must not just serve but I must serve with purpose. 

As I look back on these past three years. I recall the little boy in the library, he taught me the importance of mentorship.
I remember how touched I was when I witnessed him teaching another child a life lesson. He spoke powerful words into a young life. At 10 years old, this little boy was my Lifechanger. He changed my life's course.
It's not easy but when I feel like giving up, I say, "Dig a little deeper, push a little harder."

 

I am renewing my vows as a Lifechanger and I think I will do this every time I am feeling overwhelmed.
I've borrowed them but here they are. If you find yourself in the same place I have been, I suggest you do the same.

Vow number 1-"I am of the opinion that my life belongs to the community, and as long as I live, it is my privilege to do for it whatever I can.  I want to be thoroughly used up when I die, for the harder I work, the more I live."

-George Bernard Shaw

Vow number 2- "Do all the good you can, By all the means you can, In all the ways you can,

 In all the places you can, At all the times you can, To all the people you can,

As long as you ever can"
-John Wesley

Plasma

I woke up with no desire to run and I have felt guilty all day. So I begin my work day by
running to pick up a donation way across town,
only to find that I am not quiet dressed for the occasion.
I return to my office empty handed but not before I get a lunch meeting in.

My next appointment is a conference call. I serve on a Peer Learning Group
and today is our first visit on what we are each doing to help young adults
earn a post secondary education. I dial in and sit quietly as the others chime in.
I listen and share as we speak of engagement and effectiveness.
We talk of sustainability and multisector initiatives.
An hour into the phone call I begin to day dream. I am not good at sitting I am better at
doing. I don't want to talk about things I want to do things, although I understand
dialogue is necessary especially if we wish to create lasting change.

I am ready to receive my first face to face for the day. She is eager to live in
her own place. She is eager to be self sufficient and I am eager to help her.
We go over her plan. She has an Associates in Business but working in
a warehouse because she can not seem to find a job in her field.
We begin by going over the many barriers we must overcome in order to get us to our destination.
Just talking about it makes me feel overwhelmed. 
Not her she is focused she has 5 little reasons that keep her that way.

I am interrupted by someone handing me a note. It reads "Jane Doe is waiting in the lobby."
I ask the family in front of me if I can have a few moments with the lady in the lobby.
They graciously agree. I escort the family I am working with to the lobby and call the other family in.

I greet and ask them to come in. As they sit I ask who referred them. The mom replies
" We went to a church for help and they sent us here." I smile and quickly begin filling out my form.
I ask for her needs. She states she is in need of help paying her rent.
I ask what has caused her to fall behind. She tells me "I was sick and so was my three year old. I
wanted to go to work but the daycare wouldn't let my baby stay because he was sick."
I ask her "Will you be able to pay your bills next month if we help you this month?"
She replies "yes."

I ask for her income just to make sure she will make it. She makes 900 and her bills are 1000
and that does not include food or hygiene.
I tell her she is still going to be short and she replies "No I sell my plasma,
I just couldn't sell my plasma last month because I was sick."
I then ask "Can you pay your bills without selling your plasma?"
She softly answers "No."
I tell her "I am sorry." I'm stunned I don't know what else to say.
She sees my sadness and responds with "no that's ok, I'm ok." 
I tell her "no that's not ok. It's not ok with me."  Through broken words she speaks again
 "It's ok, my head hurts for only two hours but then I am fine."

I gasp for breath and tell her "Together we will figure out a way. A way where you and
your baby can eat with out you selling your plasma." I get up to hug her and she is
shocked that I would care. Why would she be shocked that a person in "Social Service" would care?
She pats me on the back and tells me "thank you." I will never forget that gratitude.

I've only been doing this for a very short three years and I don't know that I will ever be okay with people suffering.
When it no longer breaks my heart to see people suffer I will find something else to do.
I want to be driven to help each person as if they belonged to me.

We are never so defensless against suffering as when we love.
Sigmund Freud

My heart hurts

 I arrive to a stack of folders, emails and messages. All from people seeking a better way of life. All searching for an opportunity to earn a living wage. Education is what they are in search of but they just can't verbalize it yet.

 Later that day I have lunch with a new friend. I met her when she started contributing to our cause. I arrive late and she doesn't seem to mind. While enjoying our meal we begin to converse. I notice that she seems uncomfortable. I would even say embarrassed. We continue our conversation and I sense she is becoming more uneasy by the minute. My heart takes hold and I begin to understand what it is, I have seen this many times.

 I change the conversation by sharing my story. I speak of the times I was in need and she begins to cry. I know it is not my story that brings those tears. I am certain now that need is present. I ask how I can help. She begins to tell me that she is a proud college graduate and she is certain that no one else has gone through what she is facing. I assure her she is wrong.With much shame she speaks of her need and I assure her that there is other proud college graduates that have been through the same thing. I tell her those other proud college graduates will answer her cry for help.

 On my way back to my office I make a quick stop at one of our local Life Changing churches. They truly practice what they preach, "to do unto the least of these". I stop to thank them for funds and like always take the time to share a story. I tell them of our single mother of three. I explain that she was abandoned by her husband. I mention how well she is doing in school and I thank them for providing the funds that will reinstate her electricity and water. Before I leave I assure them that they are building capacity for those in need.

 I arrive at my office and another Neighbor is waiting for me. I inform her that a Life Changer has gifted her funds to have her utilities reinstated. She is overwhelmed and so am I. The thought of good Samaritans in this day and age caring for someone they don't know. Through her tears she says she wishes she could do something to repay us. I tell her she can. I tell her to graduate and someday she will be able to help someone like she has been helped. She assures me she will.

My heart is full. She leaves and I begin to go through my emails. I open one and immediately wish that I had not. As I read I feel as if a dagger has pierced my heart. This email is different it hurts in a different kind of way.

You have to remember most of the time I live in a fairytale. A place where people don't say no when asked to help others. A place where people care about each other just because they are people. A place where everyone I am surrounded with gives of there excess so others can succeed. A place where the elderly are honored and respected.
A place where children are feed when they are hungry. A place where "every child has the right to be prepared to go to college". A place where the battle on Poverty is being won.

Sometimes I forget that not everyone wants to be good and decent to each other. Well this email reminded me that not everyone lives in my fairytale. This gentlemen wanted me to know that not everyone wanted to help "Lazy people".

I sit with my face in my hands and I think of what I should reply. Ugliness is beginning to take over. My fingers swoosh across the keyboard and on the screen a clever reply is forming. A reply that will not only pierce this gentleman's heart but it will make him feel as if I am twisting  the dagger as I insert it.  And just when he thinks I am done I would add another small line in my reply. One that would allow him to feel as if I jerked the dagger back out only to pierce it again. Almost instantly I am reminded of grace and mercy, that is granted to me daily. I am moved to hit delete.

I try to explain to God that I merely want to share with this fellow.
I want to share with him the story of my big blue eyed curly haired three year old little girl.
I want to invite him to spend the day with me. Just one day and while in the mist of these
"Lazy People". I will ask him to pick one, just one child that he would refuse food to.
I want to invite him to go meet "Lazy Joe" a Neighbor that would wake at midnight 6 days a week to walk two hours to catch a bus to work. I will explain how on "Lazy Joes" day off he would get up early to stand at man labor to find more work. I will also mention that for two of those months "Lazy Joe" did all this with a broken foot.


I am certain that "I will do all the good I can. By all the means I can. In all the ways I can. At all the times I can. To all the people I can. As long as I can".