Tuesday, February 28, 2006

slow me down ...

I am at work right now. The door to my office is closed, and on it hangs a sign that screams out “DO NOT DISTURB” in big, ugly letters. I have been working for the past several days on a project upon which depends my salary, and thus my job. I have been pulling my hair out and drinking lots and lots of coffee. I have been questioning my abilities and wondering if I’m even qualified for this position. I have even had some restless nights lately, tossing and turning and thinking about what might happen if I don’t get this project done by the deadline.

I have been ignoring the phone and trying to avoid email. I am focused on what I think is important right now. I hear voices in the hallway and get annoyed, I smell other people’s lunches and think how they should take their work as seriously as I take mine. I eat “lunch” (today, a container of yogurt and a handful of pretzels) WHILE I work, so that I don’t lose a moment of writing this precious grant proposal (the project I’m working on).

By now you should be able to visualize me, sitting close to the computer keyboard, chewing the top to my pen and impatiently tapping my fingers on my desk. Now picture this: the waiting room outside my office, filled with four little people, jumping on the couches and chairs, throwing magazines across the room and screaming at the top of their lungs. Obviously these scenes don’t go together well.

My first instinct (and what I actually did) was to make a very obvious point of walking out of the office and glaring at the kids, as if to say “I’m a grown-up and I’m doing VERY IMPORTANT work here.” They didn’t pick up on how important I am, or how much work I have to do. So I went back into my office, closing the door VERY LOUDLY behind me.

I sat in my office, completely distracted and unable to focus on anything except how selfish I felt. I hung my head in shame and prayed, “God, help me … what do you want me to do now?” As I expected, He told me to go out there and talk to the kids instead of glaring at them. I stepped into the hallway, leaving my frustration and annoyance back in the office, along with my project. I sat down and met Shane, Zack, Amanda, and Jordan. They ranged in age from 1 to 10. Then God answered the prayer that I had really not wanted to pray. He started showing me needs that I could meet.

Chubby Amanda badly needed her nose wiped, so I went and grabbed some toilet paper from the bathroom and blotted her dirty little face. Jordan had dropped his pacifier on the floor and was screaming for it, while desperately trying to crawl out of the stroller into which he was strapped. I picked up the pacifier and noticed the hopeful look on his face. I revisited the bathroom, disposing of the “gift” from Amanda and washing off the pacifier in the sink. I walked back in and placed the pacifier in Jordan’s sausage-like fingers and focused my attention on 9 year-old Zack. I asked him what he liked to do for fun. He didn’t hesitate at all, but shouted out “draw!” Then Amanda started tugging at my pant leg and asking if I had crayons so she could color. Again, I had an automatic response of “no!”, thinking that I didn’t have crayons, and even if I did I sure didn’t want to put them in the dirty hands of these little ruffians. Honestly, I had no idea if I had crayons or if I didn’t, and I didn’t really care. But then I noticed the look of disappointment on her face, and I felt the pain in my heart, so I went back into my office and rummaged around in the storage closet. I discovered I did in fact have crayons, and construction paper too! Armed with supplies and a changed heart, I made my way back to the kids. Their eyes lit up when they saw my offering, and I gave crayons and paper to each of the three older children. Jordan sat contentedly in his stroller, sucking away at his pacifier. Shane, the 10-year-old leader of the pack took control of the situation and started giving the younger kids ideas of what to draw. I went back to my office with a feeling of contentment. I sat back down at my desk, but I didn’t have to close the door. The only sounds coming from the waiting room were giggles and the voice of little Amanda proudly saying “Look at this, guys!”

I never did mention why the kids were out there. Apparently their older brother, who I didn’t meet, was there for an appointment with the staff psychologist. He and his mom were in that office for quite a while, most likely discussing something unpleasant and serious in nature. Whatever it was, it wasn’t those kids fault, even though I almost made them feel that it was.

Today I was reminded of the importance of slowing down, getting my eyes off myself and what I think is “important”, and remembering why I’m here in the first place. Maybe, just maybe, today Amanda, Shane, Zack, and even little Jordan saw Jesus in someone who claims to love Him and want to be like Him. And all I did was find some crayons and paper. Imagine what it would be like if I had actually LOVED them.

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