losing my temper

I don't know what it was. It wasn't that I was having a particularly bad or stressful day. At least I don't remember it that way. So I'm not sure why I responded to this situation in the way that I did. But I'm choosing to not ask myself why I did it, instead I'm choosing to ask what I learned from it.

We were getting a new roof, and the roofers had been on top of our house all day banging away. One of our core members has a room on the top floor, so it must have sounded like they were coming through his ceiling. Being somewhat of an introvert, he likes to spend time in his room and then come downstairs when he feels like being around people. But the banging and the pounding were disrupting his safe haven. Because of this, he had been spending more time downstairs with us than normal. I think this was somewhat stressful and disconcerting for his introverted self.

He's not always the best at expressing his frustrations or his desires. This can sometimes come out in noncompliance, and often times he outright ignores the requests or questions that he doesn't want to answer. If he's exceptionally frustrated or upset, it can come out in vocal outbursts, or "whooping."

We were coming back to our house one evening, after the roofers had left for the day, and this core member had his van window rolled down and was already exhibiting signs that he was frustrated or out of sorts. In fact, he'd been exhibiting these signs most of the day.

As we pulled up to the house I asked him if he would roll up his window. But instead, he exited the van without rolling up his window or even shutting his door, and he walked across the front lawn and onto the porch. For some reason, this happened to push me over the edge, and I blew up.

I jumped out of the van and slammed my door. From across the front lawn, I spoke loudly (ok, I probably shouted) and said, "Why do you have to be so stubborn? All I asked was for you to roll up your window and shut your damn door! But you couldn't even do that?!?!" Now I was frustrated and upset, and I stormed across the front lawn. I noticed that the roofers had left our garage door open and so I chose to enter the house that way so I wouldn't even have to walk by this core member.

After coming inside, he quickly retreated to the now quietness of his room. I fumed and flapped around the main floor, administering medication to the other core members and grumbling all the way. After I had passed out all of the medication, I flopped down in a chair and just sat there. By now I was realizing that I had probably handled the situation wrong, that I shouldn't have blown up or yelled, that neither of those things had made the situation any better.

But then, a second core member walked up to me. Now, I have my share of frustrations with this particular core member. If you asked me to pick a core member I would butt heads with, it would be this second core member before the first one almost every time.. But today this second core member came up to me and said, "Mark? Are you mad at us?" and I said, "No, I'm not mad at anybody I'm just frustrated."

He stood there silently for a moment and then said, "Doesn't [the first core member] have trouble telling us when he's upset or angry?" and I said, "Yes..." and then he said, "And doesn't he show that he's upset through his actions because he can't put them in words?" and I said, "Yes..."

I wasn't sure what to feel right at that moment. This second core member, who I often get upset with for being self-centered was showing such insight and kindness for his fellow core member. And he was lifting up things that I already knew but in my anger and frustration I had chosen to forget. He was helping me to see that instead of seeing beyond the actions of the first core member I had chosen instead to focus simply on his actions and saw them as something he was doing purposefully to upset me.

And maybe he was, I guess I'll never know because I know he'll never tell me. But regardless of his motives,  I could have handled the situation with more grace and more compassion and more patience. And this was pointed out to me by someone with whom I don't always have the most patience.

I decided I needed to apologize for losing my temper. So when the first core member came downstairs to get something out of the kitchen, I approached him and told him that I was sorry, that my reaction to him not shutting the door was inappropriate and that I hoped he could forgive me. He said that it was ok, and then walked back up to his room.

A little later that evening, I was giving the second core member a haircut when core member #1 came back downstairs. He walked into the room where we were and said, "You're doing a good job, Mark. You should be a barber." Then he walked into the kitchen, poured himself a cup of hot tea and sat down at our dining room table. This was odd for him, to choose to be around us at that time in the evening. But after his comment, and as he sat there drinking his tea, I realized what he was doing. He was telling me, in his own way, that he had forgiven me for losing my temper. Things between were reconciled and he showed that by sharing a compliment and spending time with us.

A lot of times, we see those among us with developmental disabilities as people that need our help, or maybe even our sympathy. We see them as people that can't do things for themselves or that are somehow less than "normal" because of their disabilities.  But what I am learning is that they have a lot to teach us. If we listen, and pay attention, they can teach us about things like patience and forgiveness and love... you know, the important things.

loaf lessons

Since embarking on this latest and greatest adventure, one thing I've had to become more accomplished at is cooking. Now, in former days, that would often mean taking something out of a box and popping it into the microwave. Or, at best, boiling some water and dumping in some pasta. At worst (and more often than I'd like to admit) it meant responding to the question, "Would you like to super size that?"

But since I now share a home with people who have dietary issues like diabetes and high cholesterol it has meant that I've had to work on my food preparation methods. For the most part, I'd like to think that I've risen to the challenge. I'v often surprised myself with my ability to make things in the oven and have them actually taste good.

One thing I've become quite accomplished at is meatloaf. Now, I know what you're saying. It's meatloaf, not rocket science. And, truthfully, in the scheme of things, meatloaf is not a very tough dish to tackle. It's taking ground beef (or turkey) and mixing it with some eggs and spices and whatnot, forming it into a loaf, popping it into the oven, setting the timer and then going to check your facebook account. But I'd like to think that my meatloaf is pretty good. In fact, the guys in my house mention my meatloaf and tell me that it's good. And not even on days when we're eating it!

As I've progressed in my meatloafing abilities, I've started to be a little more adventurous and add my own little flair. I've also tried to find ways to hide vegetables in it, for those among us who aren't big vegetable eaters. So last night I had a pan full of onions and mushrooms and some diced carrots and green peppers, and I was going to saute them before I mixed them into the ground beef.

Now, yesterday was a busy day. We had taken a trip to the zoo, so we were out most of the afternoon, and I had talked to one of our other houses about bringing my guys over for a cookout. But that didn't work out, and it was already close to supper time when I figured out it wasn't going to work out, so I was in a bit of a rush to get supper on the table before the guys thought they might starve to death.

It was in the midst of this rush that I took the hamburger and tossed it into the pan and browned it with all of the various vegetables. It was only after I had completely browned all of the beef that I looked down at the pan and wondered what in God's name I had just done. Now that this beef was browned its loafing abilities had been seriously compromised.

I suppose I could have figured out something else to do with all of this now-browned beef. But I was determined to make a meatloaf. So I tossed it all in a bowl with some bread crumbs, added some eggs (a couple extra than normal) and put in some ketchup and a wee bit of barbecue sauce hoping that all of this would help bind the beef into the appropriate loaf consistency.

A positive side effect of the browning of the beef, however, was that the cooking time for the meatloaf was seriously shortened. I kept checking its progress and removed it from the oven when it looked like it was ready. I carefully sliced into the loaf, and then took a spatula and gingerly lifted out a slice from the end. When I tried to deposit it onto a plate, it crumbled into about four pieces. And that was the slice that fared the best, I'm afraid.

I'm not sure if the correct name for what I created would be a meatloaf. I guess if you looked at it pre-slicing and serving it could have passed for one. But once it had been put on a plate it fell apart and lost all resemblance to any sort of loaf. It wouldn't have won any awards for presentation. It wouldn't have been featured in any food magazine. If I had been on a cooking show like "Hell's Kitchen" I probably would have been verbally berated and then kicked off of the show. But I served it up on plates and hoped for the best.

There were only two core members home for supper (two others were out with their families). One of them happened to be a core member who is the most finicky when it comes to vegetables. But we cut the meatloaf in to six slices and all three of us had two. Both of the guys said that it was good, and I have to say that tastewise it was one of my best meatloafs yet.

If I had judged my meatloaf by its appearance, I might have passed it up, considered it a loss and threw it away and decided to order pizza instead. I might have thought that there was something better out there for us to eat for supper. But because I was willing to take a risk, and give it a try, I realized that despite the crumbliness of the loaf and even though it might not have looked the best, or the way that I would prefer a meatloaf to look, it actually had some great flavor and made all of us want seconds.

A lesson I learned from this experience, besides not browning the ground beef, is that I need to treat people like meatloaf. Don't worry, that doesn't mean that I'm resorting to cannibalism. What it means is that I need to be more intentional about not letting appearance be a factor in how I deal with people. I need to be more willing to go beyond what's on the outside and give people a chance. Only then will I allow myself to be surprised by their great flavor that I would have missed if I had decided to go for something that I thought looked better or more appealing. In the end, limiting who I am in relationship with based solely on appearance really only limits me.

going to mass

Sometimes part of my responsibilities for my new job include going along with the core members to the religious service of their choice. So, for the past couple weeks I've attended Saturday evening mass at a nearby Catholic church with two of our core members.

One of them is a very devout Catholic. He LOVES nuns and priests and monks and will talk about them nonstop. We have a volunteer who comes every so often who is a Jesuit and this core member will ask him all sorts of questions and talk forever about the nuns at a local convent that he knows.

He also enjoys worship and singing. His singing is fairly high pitched and when he enjoys the song he is singing, he can get pretty loud.

Well, this evening he especially enjoyed the hymn choices.

I go back and forth about this. On the one hand, I appreciate that he is enjoying himself. I like that he is having a good time and engaging in worship. I also know him and his personality and I know that he is a man with some developmental disabilities and so I have some understanding about why he is singing the way that he is. Also, his singing doesn't bother me, personally. I actually get kind of a kick out of it.

But, I also understand that there are many other people in that sanctuary. There are many people who do not know him, who might not know that he has developmental disabilities, and so they don't know why he is singing that way. Some people might find it loud and think it interferes with their ability to worship (in fact, I was told that a previous assistant was asked if, on days that choir sang, they would sit on the other side of the sanctuary because his singing has been known to make it difficult for them).

So, I struggle with whether or not to say something to him. Do I ask him to not sing so loud? Do I tell him that the volume of his singing might interfere with other people? And if I do, what affect will this have? Will it make him self-conscious? Will he be less likely to engage in worship at all? Will it make him feel uncomfortable in that setting? Or will it even have any effect at all? He has been know to be stubborn, and to do what he wants to regardless of how much you beg or plead or try to bribe him with the promise of chocolate cake. So, it might not even do any good to say something to him about it.

Or, do I let him sing as loud as he wants? Do I go with the line of thought that he has every right to participate in worship in a way that is meaningful to him and if he sings a little high and a little loud, it's not that big of a deal, especially because he only sings during the appropriate times. It's not like he's singing loudly while the priest is preaching.

So, anyway, all this was running through my head tonight at mass while he was getting into one of the hymns. He was singing and bouncing back and forth on his feet and every once in a while he'd throw in a snap or two. It seemed a little loud to me, and I was worried what other people were thinking or saying. Or maybe they were even laughing at him. But I couldn't bring myself to say anything because he was enjoying himself so much.

But then, after mass as we were headed out of the sanctuary, a man who was two rows behind us during the service tapped me on the arm and said, "I think we all should worship like that."

And that was just what I needed to hear tonight.

i like you!

Sometimes, part of my responsibilities for my new job include driving some of our core members to their job at a sheltered workshop. The first few times I went, I simply rode along with one of my coworkers driving, so that I could learn the route and figure it out. It took me a few days (and actually some attempts on my own during time off) for me to get comfortable with the route and the routine of driving to our two other houses, picking up the core members, driving to the workshop, walking inside and accompanying them to their different work stations, and then driving home. But I got into the groove and thought I had everything figured out.

That's when they switched it up on me. They decided to do some work on the parking lot. So the large parking lot where all of the buses would load and unload is now being dug up and expanded and resurfaced and all that fun stuff. Which means that the buses don't park there anymore. They now use the small lot which was used by the vans. Now dropping off and picking up people from this workshop is quite the ordeal. There are always at least three staff members in bright yellow vests directing traffic. They motion you in to park in the part of the larger parking lot that isn't being worked on, and you're not supposed to leave your vehicle unattended. Instead, they radio in and ask for the people you are picking up to be brought out. It's really quite the production.

What I do, however, is drive past this parking lot and into the upper lot which is where all of the employees and staff park. I then have to get out of my van, walk down the hill, around the usable portion of the larger parking lot, passed the yellow-vested staff members and into the building. Then I can go about dropping off or collecting my core members the way I've grown accustomed to. Apparently, not very many people do this, but the staff members expressed their appreciation to me the other day because this new modified pick-up and drop-off routine is really meant for those with mobility issues, like people in wheelchairs or with walkers or some other assistive device. It is preferred that those who are able would park in the upper lot and walk down. But not everyone follows along with this and they opt for the ease of being able to sit in their vans and dropping people off or having them brought out to them.

But, really, I prefer to be able to go in. I've gotten to know some of the other clients (I think that's what they call them) who work in the workshop. I've learned their names and they say hello and give me fives and "knuckles" when they see me. One guy has even said he's going to ask his mom if he can come over to my house.

There is one guy, in particular, who I've really grown to appreciate. He's always in the same spot, and I have to walk right by him to drop off one of my core members. He's in a wheelchair, and I learned the other day that he's actually deaf. But he can say some things and every day I walk by him he says the same thing to me. With a smile and a wave he says, "I like you! I like you!" I always smile and wave back and say "I like you, too!" I'm not sure if he can read lips, but I know he knows what I'm saying. One day, I walked past him while he was in the middle of another activity and I didn't say or do anything to bother him, but as I got a little way passed him I could hear him shouting it, so I turned and there he was, smiling and waving at me and telling me he likes me.

And this alone makes the inconvenience of the extra walking and maneuvering worth it. I don't mind that it takes more time to walk my people inside. Because I get the reminder that no matter what else happens that day, no matter how much I mess up or how many mistakes I make or how many things I forget to do or how little patience I seem to have or how miserable of a day I might be having that this one person likes me and he is so excited to let me know that.

My New Life

So, I haven't really used this blog quite like I had planned when I set it up. It's been a combination of things, really.

First, my life has been pretty busy. In the first two weeks that I was a part of this L'Arche community I went to our annual "Faith and Sharing" retreat which is a two night retreat up at a convent in Leavenworth, Kansas. Then, only a few short days after that, our entire community went on a road trip to Memphis for our L'Arche Central Region Gathering. There we got together with our fellow L'Arche communities from Mobile, Chicago, Jacksonville, Iowa, and some forming communities in St Louis and Atlanta. That was quite the experience. It was a lot of fun, and I met some amazing people, and I got to tour Graceland (although my little headphones with the automated tour guide stopped working part way through. I found out later that one of our core members was repeating a lot of what was being said out loud. Had I known this I would have followed him around so I could have gotten some more insight into what I was seeing!), and we had a dance and a talent show! It was a great experience, but at that stage in the game, I have to say it was a little overwhelming.

I've also been trying to figure out where I'm going and how to find places without getting lost. One of the responsibilities we have in my house is transporting a group of 4 core members to and from their jobs at a sheltered workshop. It involves leaving from our house with one core member, driving to our two other houses to pick up three other core members, and then driving them to work. Then we have to accompany them inside the workshop and make sure that they get to where they need to go and, if they need to be, are checked in. I really enjoy doing this. It's fun, and there are now other people that work at this workshop that I enjoy seeing when I'm there. But my first few days, when I was merely a ride along while another assistant drove the van, I wondered how I would ever figure out where to turn and which direction to go. Several hours of my freetime were spent driving and trying to figure out the right route, so that when it came to be my turn to drop off or pick up the core members, that I wouldn't get lost. I thought I was pretty good, but the first time I picked them up I took a wrong turn onto one of the highways. Despite the protests of one of the core members who told me I was going the wrong way, I was pretty certain that I had made the right choice. It only took me going past one exit to realize that I had, indeed, made the wrong turn. So, apologizing to the core member, I turned the van around and made it home. I have gotten to the point where I have figured the route out, now, and have driven it many times successfully. But there are still places that I need to drive various core members to for various activities, and I often don't know where I'm going. So I rely heavily on google maps. So far I'm doing pretty well.

I'm having a great time getting to know the people, too. I'd like to think that I'm off to a good start with building some great relationships with the core members. I enjoy being around them and they seem to enjoy my goofy disposition. I enjoy all of the other assistants and have a lot of fun being around them. I also like the community leader and the community coordinator, who are my two bosses. They are fun and the community coordinator just recently took me out for coffee. So he can't be all bad.

It definitely is a change of pace from what I've been used to. In my previous life, I was constantly planning, organizing events and classes, planning Confirmation, meeting with committees to plan activities and events and organize Sunday School. Every time I'd hear a siren I'd wonder if I was going to get a call to the hospital or funeral home.

But here, it's much more laidback. My main responsibilities most days are making sure the core members have the things that they need each day. And then a lot of what happens is extra stuff. Like a walk through the neighborhood, or a trip to the bowling alley, or a cookout. It's building relationships and getting to know people and spending time together. It's playing Uno, or celebrating that someone kicked the soccer ball. It's laughing and singing and dancing and telling stories.

So I'm sorry that I haven't kept this blog as up to date as you or I might have hoped. But life is definitely good. There are amazing things happening. And I promise that I will try to be better at sharing them with all of you!!

Prayer Night

Once a week, here at L'Arche, we have what's called a prayer night. We all gather together in one of the houses and we share a meal together. Then one of the assistants leads a group activity. After the activity, there's a time for announcements and prayer, and then we all mosey back to our houses for nighttime routines.

This last Tuesday was my first Prayer Night as an assistant here at L'Arche. Because of that, during the announcements, Thomas, our community leader, announced that I was finally here in the flesh. People started to clap but then one of the core members from my house said, at an elevated volume, "Hallelujah!"

This caused people to clap louder and to laugh. It was a funny moment (one of many to come, I'm sure) but it was also a heart-warming moment. Hallelujah is a word used to express praise or joy. It's said in thanksgiving to God for what God has done for us. And it was said last night at Prayer Night because I am now a part of the community here at L'Arche Heartland.

Hallelujah. I'm here.

As Long as I Journey

Since making the announcement to my congregation that I would be leaving, my life has been a jumble of emotions. There is great excitement and anticipation about what my future holds. I am eager to go and join this new community and to get to know them and to get situated there and start my life with them. There is also some anxiousness and nervousness. I am hopeful that I will fit in, that I will do good work there, that I will be what this community needs and that they will be what I need. But there is also a lot of sadness. I have been blessed to know some wonderful people here in my current setting. To embark on this new journey means saying good bye to them. Our relationships will never again be the way they are right now. I will not be as much a part of their lives as I have been these past five years. I will have to say good bye to the young people that I've seen grow and change in crazy and amazing ways. I will have to say good bye to people who have invited me into their homes and their lives, who have been my friends and surrogate families while I have been here. It is not easy to say good bye.

So my life has been a crazy experience of emotions lately. I was going to say it has been a roller coaster, but with a roller coaster you have very defined highs and lows. Sometimes my emotions are like that, easy to define and figure out which one I am feeling. But often it has been hard to define my emotions, sometimes I've felt great excitement and sadness at the same time, or great eagerness simultaneously with great nervousness.

The other day I happened to be flipping through our worship hymnal, Evangelical Lutheran Worship, and I came across a hymn that I became familiar with because of my friends Ben and Renee Larson, Jon Larson and Elly McHan. They are friends from seminary who are all very gifted in ministry and music. The first time I heard it was when they were singing it. Ben also happens to be my friend who we tragically lost in the earthquake in Haiti in 2010. This song was sung at his memorial service at Luther College. As I looked through it, I happened to notice that at the bottom it said that it was written by a L'Arche Community. I might have noticed that before, but this time, of course, it jumped out at me.

Then, today, I received a note from a friend who had just read my announcement. He asked if we were going to sing this same song at my final service at church because it was written by a L'Arche Community. It is actually very meaningful and applicable to where I am in my life right now, and so I thought I would share it with you here.

Lord Jesus, You Shall Be My Song
by Les Petites Souers de Jesus and L'Arche Community; tr. Stephan Somerville

Lord Jesus, you shall be my song as I journey;
I'll tell ev'rybody about you wherever I go:
you alone are our life and our peace and our love.
Lord Jesus, you shall be my song as I journey.

Lord Jesus, I'll praise you as long as I journey.
May all of my joy be a faithful reflection of you.
May the earth and the sea and the sky join my song.
Lord Jesus, I'll praise you as long as I journey.

As long as I live, Jesus, make me your servant,
to carry your cross and to share all your burdens and tears.
For you saved me by giving your body and blood.
As long as I live, Jesus, make me your servant.

I fear in the dark and the doubt of my journey;

but courage will come with the sound of your steps by my side.

And with all of the fam'ly you saved by your love,

we'll sing to your dawn at the end of our journey.