When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man I put childish ways behind me. Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.
- 1 Corinthians 13:11, 12
Today, while dusting the DVD shelves, one of my clients wheeled himself to my side and asked me to go get the bathroom key for him. I know that he has an irrational fear of people in authority and is terrified to approach the manager (who happens to be one of the most easy-going, approachable people in an upper management position I've met). It would have been a quick stroll for me to the front desk, but I knew this was one of those teachable moments where I needed to let go and let him face his phobia head on, and so I prompted him to ask the front-desk staff for the bathroom key.
His face turned pale. He sat there for a moment in his wheelchair stunned, then his shock turned to anger. Never one to mince words, he yelled at me with exaggerated intensity (he's deaf and cannot always control the volume of his voice), "what are they teaching you at our agency anyways? When you're asked to help somebody you should always help them! I even said please!"
So often in my line of work I come into confrontation with myself. When I looked at him, bound by fear, I was confronting my own fears, face-to-face with my people-pleasing tendencies. For so many reasons, it would have been easier for me to go and get the key for him, not the least that it would have been easier on my professional reputation (would I be accused of abuse by not offering assistance?), but in spite of his rhetoric, would I really have been helping him by doing something for him that he could learn to do on his own?
I'm beginning to thank God for these crisis points, as painful as the unavoidable point is, for these moments of confrontation have a way of throwing light on the falseness of my life. I like to think of myself as a nice, caring person who helps others out in need, but I live with the undercurrents of fear. Underneath it all, I fear that my false motives might be exposed, when my patronizing attitude is a mask betraying my avoidance of confrontation, not only with others, but with myself.
I can't tell you how many times people have made comments like, "oh, you work with handicapped people, you must be so patient", as if I had heroically chosen a life of martyrdom. God knows (as well as my truly patient wife who graciously puts up with her husband's daily antics) that it's not my long-suffering "patience", but the mutuality of the relationship that keeps me going, keeps me moving forward in my walk with God, as we continue to learn and grow journeying together.
I sat down with my client and asked him what he thought my role is at work. "Well, when someone asks you to do something for them you do it." I took a deep breath, "No, that's wrong. I'm here to help you help yourself, and that's what they teach us at our agency. I know you have the ability to ask for the bathroom key on your own, and I wouldn't be helping you to grow independently if I were to do that for you." He thought to himself for a moment and apologized for his "outburst".
He went to ask for the key on his own from the front desk staff, perhaps looking into that staff person's eyes for the first time. He wheeled himself to the bathroom door, grasping the keys in one hand. He attempted to open the door, but try as he might, his hand tremors wouldn't allow him to steady the key long enough to turn it properly. He thumbed through the keys one at a time, but they kept dropping to the floor. My other client tried to help out and take the keys from him, but he grabbed them back and with a look of defiance said determinedly, "no, I need to help myself now."
How I wanted that door to swing wide open, but it refused to budge. He hung his head despairingly. Finally, I caved in and asked if I could give him a hand. Was he facing a limitation and in need of my support, or was I getting in the way of his independency? I couldn't be sure. I don't always know where to draw the line, but one thing is clear, we need each other.
At the end of their shift my other client came running up to me proudly clutching the pay cheque he had just received. He ordered me to put it in his bag for him. I opened up his bag and was about to put the cheque in when I stopped myself, turned back to him and smiled, "I still have a lot to learn, don't I?"
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