Posted by: molly | June 19, 2009

Perspective

Last week I began a new job.  The kind of job where you come in for your first day with all of your paperwork stating that you had a doctor look at you and tell you that you were not dead and that you don’t have TB.  The first thing they do is take this paperwork.  Second, they send you out to be the caretaker of a group of children that know you know nothing and will do anything to exploit this fact.

One of those types of jobs.  But this just wasn’t any group of children.  These are children living at a children’s shelter until someone can take them home—be it their parents, an aunt or uncle or a foster family.

So I was dropped into day 1 of work, ready to change the world and fix all the problems I could possibly encounter.   After 8 full hours of trying break up fights, figure out what to do with all these bored children, and put down minor insurrections about bedtime, I headed home, grumpy, tired, and defeated in my quest of world changing.  After kissing my husband goodbye at 7:30 that morning I came home at 10:30 (did I mention my hours were 2-10 at night…) I to a husband who was already asleep.  Feeling rather sorry for myself, I cried myself to sleep.

And got up the next day to the same routine.  Looking ahead at my schedule I wasn’t sure how I was going to manage to do this for 6 days straight (while still working my 2 other part-time jobs).  With some days better than others, I moved on, becoming increasingly more disillusioned.

So I did the logical thing—I called home to my mommy.  Well, actually this was not simply an emotional response.  With 20+ years of educational experience ranging from raising 4 children to running a school, my mother is a wonderful asset to any question about dealing with children.  And, she is my mother after all.

Her words were encouraging and rebuking.  She assured me that being a grown-up wasn’t easy and wasn’t always fun.  She gave me her love and pity for my difficulty.  But, she reminded me, that it isn’t all about me.  I have a job that gives me a chance to show God’s love to children who probably have never seen that before.  I have the chance to make a difference in the lives of children who are hurting.  Each day I go in, ready to be disobeyed, disrespected, yelled at, whatever.  And each night, I can go home, forgiving those who have done wrong against me.  And the next day I can go in ready to show love again.  I was no longer the victim of my job.  I am the privileged one who gets to impact other in some small way or another.

Equipped with this new perspective, I headed into work that night and was disobeyed, disrespected, and yelled at.  And now, it didn’t seem to matter so much.  I still gave consequences for wrong actions but I could see past these kid’s behaviors to see kids who needed to have God’s love shown to them.  What a refreshing change from the perspective of being the victim to that of being a giver.

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Responses

  1. Thanks so much for posting that, Zippy. It really was encouraging.

    mlee


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