Kindness and Service, All in the Family (#BestOf)

Posted on August 7, 2014 by chaplaineliza

A Year of Being Kind blog – Wednesday, August 3, 2016

At first glance, this post seems ordinary. Everyday. But then, I stepped back and thought about that. Aren’t our lives often ordinary and everyday? I have the opportunity to be kind and to be of service in ordinary situations, just as much as missionaries have the opportunity to be of service in far-flung places around the world. Wherever God wants me to help and to be kind, to be other-centered, I will strive to follow Jesus’s example.

A Year of Being Kind blog – Wednesday, August 6, 2014

Kindness and Service, All in the Family

I’m a helpful person. From a Christian point of view, I have a spiritual gift of helps. I enjoy helping. I feel fulfilled when I do things for people. This is another way of saying I try to be kind to people. And—I wish to encourage others to be kind, too. It takes people out of themselves. From being self-centered to becoming other-centered.

Another ordinary day. An ordinary Wednesday, in fact. I went to work, made some telephone calls, did some computer work, sent some emails. Went on a kind visit, to a care center to see a senior. Actively listened to this dear person, and kept this senior company for a while.

Then I went to be kind, for a second time. Kind to my husband. I picked him up from the conference center and brought him home.

And I was kind, again, to my daughter. She and I went shopping again in preparation for college, and I dearly hope this is the last shopping trip. (Although she did get some really nice things!)

And lastly, I was kind to myself. In the evening, I went to the gym at the YMCA. Went on the track, and did a good bit of stretching and yoga afterwards. It felt great!

I wonder how many different ways I can be kind? I’ve already found quite a few. (After all, this blog is called “A Year of Being Kind.”) God, the best part about this endeavor is that I am becoming accustomed to discovering kind things to do, on a regular basis. Ways to be of service, every day. I know I have done some things I don’t even want to publicize, to write about in this blog, and that’s okay, too. Some things are better left private. Sometimes even the person I am providing a kindness to doesn’t even know. Isn’t in the least bit aware. And that makes the whole being-kind-thing really exciting!

God, what kinds of opportunities will you send me tomorrow? Will they be little or big? A bit scary? Unexpected? Gentle? Or even quieter than quiet, and unassuming? Whatever they are, however I discover them, help me serve others. Be kind. Help.

@chaplaineliza

(Suggestion: visit me at my blog: matterofprayer: A Year of Everyday Prayers– where I am doing a PEACE journey through Eastertide and beyond. #PursuePEACE. Pursuing Peace – Thanks!)

(also published at ayearofbeingkind.wordpress.com .   @chaplaineliza And read my sermons from Pastor, Preacher Pray-er – Thanks!)

Being Kind with Singing Valentines (Feature Friday!)

(the Best of) A Year of Being Kind, Monday, February 15, 2016

This is one of my favorite, poignant, heart-tugging posts from two years ago. Read it, and see if you agree.

A Year of Being Kind blog – Friday, February 14, 2014

Being Kind with Singing Valentines  (Feature Friday!)

This Valentine’s Day story happened about ten years ago.  Not to me, but to my husband Kevin, instead.

My husband was part of a barbershop chorus here in the Chicago suburbs then. Not a large chorus, but a very earnest one. The chorus was part of the Barbershop Harmony Society, historically named the Society for the Preservation and Encouragement of Barber Shop Quartet Singing in America. Sadly, his chorus disbanded a couple of years ago due to aging membership.

But, enough background. On to the important stuff—the story.

Singing valentines were one of the signature fundraisers for my husband’s chorus. They would advertise for several weeks before Valentine’s Day. Requests would come in, and a Singing Valentine barbershop quartet would travel to the specified place, dressed to the nines in their concert attire (sparkling white shirt, spiffy red vest, black tuxedo pants, even with black garters on the sleeves). The quartet would sing two songs (such as “Let Me Call You Sweetheart”). One of the quartet would present the valentine recipient with a single red rose. Very romantic, and out of the ordinary, too.

My husband Kevin—the baritone for the quartet—went out with the rest of the guys to deliver several Singing Valentines. All of the quartet knew the drill for Singing Valentines. It didn’t matter whether they were going into a workplace, a restaurant, a home or apartment. They would go in, introduce themselves, sing two numbers, present the rose, and excuse themselves as quietly and quickly as possible. After all, they had more valentines to present.

However, this next Singing Valentine was different.

An older mother wanted her adult son to receive a Singing Valentine. Not the usual sweetheart or husband or wife, but it was the next on the list. The four guys drove in a single car from place to place. They had the address of this son, on Ridge in Chicago. Just south of Devon. They were unfamiliar with the facility. Misericordia, it was called. The quartet came into the facility and discovered it was a home for people with moderate to profound developmental disabilities. They announced themselves to the front desk. The facility was ready for them, and ushered the quartet into a large common room.

To the quartet’s surprise, the staff had painstakingly assembled between thirty-five to forty residents in the large room—residents in specialized wheelchairs, several sitting awkwardly, one even lying face down on a wheeled cot. This was definitely not the typical Singing Valentine. As Kevin recounted the story, the quartet went into a quick huddle. No snappy valentine delivery this time. Instead, the quartet did their two numbers plus an additional set of songs. They gave an impromptu mini-concert for the assembled crowd. (It was a crowd, too! About three dozen residents plus a number of staff.) At the end, the son was presented with a rose, and the quartet quietly excused themselves. On to the next Singing Valentine.

Kevin recollected, “We went into the thing with a very business-like attitude. But, we were shocked into the realization that there was something much more human at stake. I think we were all a little choked up by the whole episode.” The business of delivering Singing Valentines had transformed into something deeper. Something more meaningful, more intensely touching.

What an opportunity to be kind. What a way to show love. Happy Valentine’s Day, in deed.

@chaplaineliza

(Suggestion: visit me at my blog: matterofprayer: A Year of Everyday Prayers– where I am doing a Lenten journey. #PursuePEACE. Thanks!)

(also published at ayearofbeingkind.wordpress.com .   @chaplaineliza And read my sermons from Pastor, Preacher Pray-er – Thanks!)

Helping Out—A Pinch Hitter? (#BestOf)

(the Best of) A Year of Being Kind, Wednesday, April 8, 2015

Baseball season is with us again. I feel badly because I don’t watch the game like I used to. There is a Big Ten university not far from my house, and my husband and I have seriously considered watching them play baseball. Almost like watching a minor league game! But, not yet. Still, I love the game. I can relate so well to baseball analogies when discussing life. I sometimes do feel like a pinch hitter! See what you think as you read this post.

(. . . “for it’s one, two, three strikes, you’re out/at the old ball game!”)

 

A Year of Being Kind blog – Monday, April 7, 2014

baseball players –
metal art from Mexico

 

Helping Out—A Pinch Hitter?

It’s April again, and baseball season is again with us. I haven’t been to a major league game for several years, but I really enjoy a good game of baseball. (Of course, the team I’ve rooted for, ever since I was a girl, is the Chicago Cubs. But that’s a whole different matter. No joking comments, please.)

From time to time, I seem to be placed in a position where I need to step in at the last minute. You know, where I might need to speak, or teach, or facilitate, or drive, or – you name it. I’ve probably done it. I have training in several areas. A few years ago, I even thought of myself as a jack of all trades. (Or would that be a jill of all trades? Good question. But I digress.)

Another way to think of this kind of position is that of a pinch hitter. Sure, from time to time I have stepped up to the plate and competently taken a swing. I try to do my best, whatever I do! My conscientiousness helps a good deal here, too. I could tell you about some tricky situations, and a few times that ended up being tragic. But instead, I’m going to focus on today. I stepped up to the plate here at home, and helped out the contractor to the best of my ability. On the phone, walking all over the building, doing an errand. And then some. (Here I thought that getting a new vanity, sink and wall tile was just a simple, straightforward job. Little did I know . . . )

And later, I talked with a friend. He and I were going to meet tomorrow morning before a meeting. But not now! Not with his dripping nose and scratchy throat! So, I can certainly substitute for him and do a competent job facilitating the group.

God, I get the feeling that You’re trying to show me something with this blog post. You don’t need to worry about being a pinch hitter. You’re a superstar. You could blow everyone away with Your batting, fielding, throwing and pitching talent! But what about me? How do I fit in?

I know You love me, God. Thanks a lot! (I really mean that, very, very much. Despite my humorous, sometimes offhand way of communicating.) But what if You want me to keep on helping out? Doing what I can. Stepping up to the plate when I need to, filling the need when necessary. Maybe this is another way of You showing Your love for me—by giving me opportunities to serve You, in any one of a number of ways.

I wonder what You’ll send my way tomorrow? I bet it will be interesting, whatever it is! Thanks ahead of time for helping me handle it, too.

@chaplaineliza

Like what you read? Disagree? Share your thoughts with your loved ones and continue the conversation.

(Suggestion: visit me at my daily blog for 2015: matterofprayer: A Year of Everyday Prayers.   @chaplaineliza And read #40acts sermons from Pastor, Preacher Pray-er – Thanks!)

 

Unexpected? Kindness to a Stranger

A Year of Being Kind blog – Tuesday, December 23, 2014

Unexpected? Kindness to a Stranger

I spent the whole day at work, cleaning up from last night’s service. Getting ready for tomorrow night. Read to the preschool children, and talked with a few others. Someone came to the door. Talked and prayed with that person, had some more interaction. Answered some email, wrote a few letters, and generally had a productive day. Good day. Worthwhile day.

I had a few errands to run on the way home. Stopped at a grocery store, a drug store, a friend’s apartment, and then—finally! I ran by a fast food place to pick up some things for dinner for my family. Got a couple of tacos apiece, and left.

As I walked to my car, I happened to pass a woman. She was dressed in a worn winter coat. Knit hat on her head. I looked at her. Met her eyes, with my friendly smile. I could see, from the way her face changed slightly, that she had some hope. She asked me for some change. One problem: I do not often give people on the street any money. But tonight?

“I don’t have any change. But are you interested in something to eat?” The middle-aged woman quickly nodded. “Do you like tacos?” Again, the agreement. Positive response. I beckoned to her. She walked with me the few dozen feet to the door of the taco place. I found out that she didn’t have any place to live. “I ride the train at night.” She meant the elevated train. A difficult thing to do, riding the train. Especially when it gets really cold, which it will in the Chicago area starting tomorrow night. She agreed.

The woman ordered two tacos. As we stood at the counter, I gave her the rest of the five dollars (which was all I had left). Plus, my brother had sent me a coffee card in his Christmas card a few days ago. I still had the gift card, with about four dollars on it. I gave it to the woman, too.

The young woman behind the counter watched all of this with eyes wide open. (She couldn’t have been much more than twenty-one or twenty-two.) She knew I had ordered some food a few minutes before, and left. And then, I returned with the middle-aged woman. As the counter person looked back and forth, her expression took on wonder. Surprise. “That is nice. Really, that is.” After a moment or two, again, she said, “That is so nice.”

As the two of us left, I asked whether the woman had someplace to go on Christmas. She said she hoped she might. Maybe, find someone she knew who would allow her to stay inside for a night or two. I smiled at her, sadly. “I hope you can find just such a person. God bless you.” She thanked me for what I had done, what I had given her. And, I said I would remember her in prayer.

So, please—could you remember this dear woman? Send kind thoughts her way. Pray God’s comfort, encouragement and mercy upon her. God knows who she is. God bless her. Truly.

@chaplaineliza

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Unexpected Service—Serving the Homeless (Feature Friday!)

A Year of Being Kind blog – Friday, December 19, 2014

Unexpected Service—Serving the Homeless (Feature Friday!)

Posted outside of the church I attended, some years ago, was a sign by a small tree covered in blue ribbons: “While celebrating One homeless Family, these ribbons ask us to remember the homeless with us today.” I had never thought about the Holy Family in that way before.

Some people in the 21st century probably are so accustomed to the Christmas story that their idea of shepherds keeping watch over their flocks by night is somehow associated with Christmas cards. But it was life as usual for these working people. An everyday way of life in Palestine. What’s more, being a shepherd was not a particularly high class job. The lowly vocation of shepherd was on the outskirts of society. A possible comparison today is to think of a person selling “Streetwise,” the news sheet sold for $2.00 outside of grocery stores and coffee shops here around the Chicago area.

And suddenly, the angel of the Lord came to these shepherds—came to people in homeless shelters, people selling “Streetwise,” people down on their luck, people on the edge, on the outs of society. The angel of the Lord came to them with good news. Good news. With news of God’s birth announcement. We can see God again breaking through, in an unexpected way, to an unexpected group of people.

Are some of these people the “underclass?” Are these people undesirables? Untouchables? Not to God. And, not to the Night Ministry, either.

As their website says, “The Night Ministry is a Chicago-based organization that works to provide housing, health care and human connection to members of our community struggling with poverty or homelessness. With an open heart and an open mind, we accept people as they are and work to address their immediate physical, emotional and social needs while affirming their sense of humanity.”

The Night Ministry served over 138,000 individuals last year, including more than 12,000 young people (aged 14 to 21) who were homeless. Trying to live—to survive in Chicago on their own, without any family or guardian. The Night Ministry works to reach these teens, as well as adults and new moms who have nowhere else to go.

This vital ministry works in Chicago neighborhoods to build relationships and provide immediate, practical resources. They have a new Health Outreach Bus (replacing the old bus that had clocked over 90,000 miles), offering medical exams, treatment and HIV testing, as well as coffee, conversation and a sense of community. The Youth Outreach teams reach out to homeless and LGBT youth in the Lakeview neighborhood to offer non-judgmental support, guidance, food and self-care supplies.

So—especially during the holidays, at that time of the year when the thoughts of many turn to family and friends, this is an especially difficult time of the year. Think of these homeless people, far from family or friends. Send thoughts and prayers to them. Just as you think of that homeless (Holy) Family, two thousand years ago. I know God blessed that homeless (Holy) Family, as I pray God blesses the homeless in my own hometown, tonight.

@chaplaineliza

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In Which I Help and Save the Day

A Year of Being Kind blog – Saturday, November 1, 2014

Michigan autumn lake reflection
photo credit Terri Gostola

In Which I Help and Save the Day

Well, almost. I mean, not really. The save-the-day part. But my son and his friend were extremely grateful, nevertheless. Let me tell you what really happened. My son and his friend were some distance away. Near, by standards of the commuter railway, but not in terms of travel by foot.

I had absolutely no idea I was going to be needed. It was a quiet Saturday afternoon. Here I sat in the living room, checking email and doing other computer work this afternoon, when I got an unexpected telephone call on my cell phone. Hmm. I didn’t know the number. “Good afternoon,” I said, using my business delivery, not knowing who on earth it might be.

“Hello, Mom?”

Just from the tone of my son’s voice I knew something was the matter. (Yes, a mom can usually tell those kinds of things.) “What’s up?” I asked, using my cheerful voice.

“Well . . . “ I waited, wondering what was coming next. “We missed the train. We almost got there in time, but not quite. And the next one won’t be here for almost two hours.”

I nodded to myself. “And let me guess. You would like me to come pick you up.” The answer was affirmative, and sheepish. Accordingly, I needed to shut down several things. Finish an email. I left as soon as I could, in just a few minutes. It was a beautiful day, after all. Sunny, bright blue skies with wisps of high clouds, even though it was downright cold. (Maybe the cold snap was causing people to stay inside.)

Yes, I saved the day. Like I said, my son and his friend thanked me and expressed their gratitude repeatedly. (It was a cold day for walking!) And, we had a really enjoyable time on the way back. I needed to stop by the library, and we all went to the pet shop nearby. I met two adorable mixed breed puppies, and the store cat. So, I had some animal-petting time today, which is always a plus. My son and his friend chattered about all kinds of things, and I enjoyed the animated conversation. Even got in on some of it.

So, did I help out today? Yes. Did I enjoy myself today? Yes, again! All in all, a successful day. (Especially petting the animals.) What kind of service are You going to send me tomorrow, God? I wonder.

@chaplaineliza

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Kindness to Those with Less

A Year of Being Kind blog – Thursday, October 8, 2014

Kindness to Those with Less

Ever have something come to mind from a long time ago? Something you thought was long forgotten? That happened to me. I remembered something from three decades ago, last week.

This sort of thing happens periodically. I forget some things, and they get submerged in my memory. My subconscious mind. And then—from time to time I have no idea why—the person or event or occurrence pops up in my conscious thoughts. Sometimes, I think of it as mental driftwood, washing up on the shores of my memory. I walk along the beaches of my mind collecting the driftwood, turning it over and over. Once in a while, I get extremely uncomfortable with my memories. But not this time. This was a pleasing memory. A happy memory.

Almost thirty years ago, I received a lump sum of money. I was quite grateful, and quickly figured out what I was going to do with it. Part of it went for the marvelous upright piano that is sitting here in my living room, not ten feet away from me. (Thanks, Tim, for assisting me with that purchase!) However, I decided to use some of it to help out a family—anonymously. I believe this is the first time I have ever openly discussed this. Ever. (Other than with my then-husband, at the time.) I guess I took Jesus’ injunction in Matthew 6 seriously: when giving to someone in need, don’t let your left hand know what your right hand is doing. I tried to keep my action quiet, and not let anyone know. Until now.

Several times I remember—it might have been four, or perhaps five times—I sent them some money. Anonymously. I knew this was a needy family, and I knew I had an unexpected financial windfall. So, I was kind to them. Without letting them know where the money came from.

In late December 2013, I made plans for this year’s blog. I set out verses from all over the Bible on being kind. Including this verse for October – Proverbs 19:17 “Whoever is kind to the poor lends to the Lord, and will be repaid in full.” When I chose this particular verse, I wasn’t thinking of this specific situation from three decades ago. However, now I am. I am pleased I gave that family some needed funds. I remember thinking at the time of how excited they probably were, opening the envelope that came in the mail, and discovering the cash inside the cheerful card.

Other than a period of financial hardship a few years after this act of kindness, I have always had enough to live on. Not an extravagant amount, by any means. My family has lived in a modest, no-frills, four-room condominium for the past twenty years. Not much money to spare. But I am, on the whole, content. God willing, I’ll continue that way. And, now that I am remembering them, I wish this family the very best!

@chaplaineliza

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Kindness and Service, All in the Family

A Year of Being Kind blog – Wednesday, August 6, 2014

Kindness and Service, All in the Family

I’m a helpful person. From a Christian point of view, I have a spiritual gift of helps. I enjoy helping. I feel fulfilled when I do things for people. This is another way of saying I try to be kind to people. And—I wish to encourage others to be kind, too. It takes people out of themselves. From being self-centered to becoming other-centered.

Another ordinary day. An ordinary Wednesday, in fact. I went to work, made some telephone calls, did some computer work, sent some emails. Went on a kind visit, to a care center to see a senior. Actively listened to this dear person, and kept this senior company for a while.

Then I went to be kind, for a second time. Kind to my husband. I picked him up from the conference center and brought him home.

And I was kind, again, to my daughter. She and I went shopping again in preparation for college, and I dearly hope this is the last shopping trip. (Although she did get some really nice things!)

And lastly, I was kind to myself. In the evening, I went to the gym at the YMCA. Went on the track, and did a good bit of stretching and yoga afterwards. It felt great!

I wonder how many different ways I can be kind? I’ve already found quite a few. (After all, this blog is called “A Year of Being Kind.”) God, the best part about this endeavor is that I am becoming accustomed to discovering kind things to do, on a regular basis. Ways to be of service, every day. I know I have done some things I don’t even want to publicize, to write about in this blog, and that’s okay, too. Some things are better left private. Sometimes even the person I am providing a kindness to doesn’t even know. Isn’t in the least bit aware. And that makes the whole being-kind-thing really exciting!

God, what kinds of opportunities will you send me tomorrow? Will they be little or big? A bit scary? Unexpected? Gentle? Or even quieter than quiet, and unassuming? Whatever they are, however I discover them, help me serve others. Be kind. Help.

@chaplaineliza

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Interrupted—to Help Out

A Year of Being Kind blog – Saturday, May 31, 2014

Interrupted—to Help Out

Ever get interrupted by the telephone? Unexpected call? Need to rush to pick someone up?

That was me, later this evening.

Don’t get me wrong: today was great. Beautiful weather. And the last of my relatives spent their last day in Chicago today. This evening, my husband, daughter and I went to dinner with my brother and his wife before they prepare to fly back to the west coast tomorrow. Lovely time together, with awesome food (deep dish pizza, yum!!). I think I can say all five of us had a fine dinner. Or should I say, “dining experience?”

My son couldn’t go with us. He works at a downtown restaurant in our town. He needed to work later this afternoon, and this evening. Everything here was settling down. Getting quiet. My daughter had left to spend the night with a good friend (also to chat, and have some girl-talk). My husband had turned in—already sleeping. I took advantage of the opportunity (and the quiet) to get some computer work accomplished.

The telephone rang, breaking the silence. “Good evening.”

“Hi, Mom.” Deep, chesty cough. Several more coughs. “Could you come pick me up from work? Like, now?” More coughing. I thought he sounded sad, almost forlorn. So, off I went. Of course, I picked him up! I needed to switch gears, put on my Mom/practical nurse hat, and tend to his cough and his respiratory difficulty. I gave him some medication, and suggested that he get in the warm shower. Breathe in the warm steam. Gratefully, he did that, for a good long while.

What did parents do before easy access to medication? Pray, pray, and pray. (It’s still a good idea.)

God, thank You for my son. I pray for him, for his respiratory difficulty, and for his cough. God, please alleviate his discomfort. Give me wisdom and understanding to know what to do and when to do it. In Your mercy, Lord, hear my prayer.

@chaplaineliza

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Children Make Me Happy!

A Year of Being Kind blog – Monday, April 28, 2014

Children Make Me Happy!

Yes, children have the potential of making me happy. Simple, straight-forward, open, friendly, trusting. All these things about children refresh me. Energize me. There is a preschool at the church where I have my new job. When I see them in the halls or in other places around the church, I often feel happy inside. They are almost like an automatic smile maker.

I loved having small children, myself. I loved being able to slow down to a child’s pace, to look at the world through their eyes. To gaze with wonder at a huge snowflake landing on the woolen arm of a winter coat, or a spider making its orb web in the backyard, or an ant hurrying on its way with a crumb twice its size on its back. All of these make me pause and reflect. If it weren’t for children, how often would I slow down and look at the little things of life? I mean, the tiny details, the unexpectedly surprising discoveries of everyday experience?

And to sing and make music with children? Singing silly songs, doing all the hand motions, getting up and marching around the classroom, or doing the hokey-pokey? (That’s what it’s all about, you know!) No wonder there is so much laughter and merriment coming from preschools all over!

God compares us to small children, in the Hebrew Scriptures. Or rather, God compares the nation of Israel to a small child. (And by scriptural and hermeneutical understanding, we—today—can also compare ourselves to small children, too. But I digress from my biblical example.) In chapter 11 of Hosea, the prophet talks of God picking up the nation of Israel like a small child and cuddling the small child/nation of Israel to God’s chest/breast. This is such a maternal image! Sometimes, especially when I am feeling small and lost and alone, I am comforted to no end to be reminded of such a tender word picture. Imagine, God doing that to me! (And God will cuddle you, too. If you need it. Or want it.)

Now, I have no problem seeing God as my Loving, Heavenly Parent. Sure, I did have parental issues in my past. I mean, issues with my earthly parents. But through years of prayer, meditation, spiritual direction and counseling, I’ve come to terms with most of them. Now, this clears the way for a loving, encouraging, caring relationship with my Heavenly Father. (Or if you prefer, God our Mother, as St. Julian of Norwich said several times in her excellent book Revelations of Divine Love.)

So, how was I kind today? I shared smiles and hellos with some preschoolers today, and they shared right back! Talk about a mutual smile maker! God, thank You for children, especially the children of Kids Academy. And the preschool teachers, too, who give so willingly and tenderly of themselves to these little ones, each day. Thanks, God!

@chaplaineliza

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