My Priorities versus People's Priorities

People and Priorities

I was reminded yesterday, how important it is to stay focused on my priorities in everything I do, so that I may not be a burden for my people and avoid hardships and inconveniences for myself (listed under problem behaviors below).

Problem Behavior #1:
I wasted my time walking aimlessly through all departments at Wal-Mart, where nothing on my shopping list was located.

Problem Behavior #2:
Upon entering the parking lot, I found myself repeating problem behavior #1.
I kept walking up and down the aisles looking for my small Geo Metro that was nowhere to be found.  I assured myself that I had checked the correct area first. Then I made myself walk up and down every other lane to assure myself that the Geo wasn't in the place, where I had thought it wasn't supposed to be. After carrying my groceries for too long, I came up with a despairing conclusion: My car doesn't lock! Someone may have jiggled the ignition and taken off with it!?-- I called up my daughter: "I know this sounds ridiculous, but I can't find my car anywhere in Wal-Mart's parking lot." "Well, I'm sure nobody stole your car", I heard her say right before the battery on my phone died.

Solution: I returned to "square 1", and there it was! Did I finally see it on my 2nd or 3rd time around? I'm not sure, but I know that my tiny car must have hit my blind spot at least on one or two of the rounds.

Hardship #1:
I was upset about the time and energy I had wasted. I felt bad about the false accusation that had entered my mind, and about troubling my daughter with a phone call that wasn't necessary.

Hardship #2:
After completing my shopping a block farther up, a horn honked behind me in the parking lot. My daughter had packed up her toddler and had come searching for me. A double waste of my/her time and my/her energy!

I must stay focused on the right things and the right places, and acknowledge that my problem is first and foremost my problem.

My Dad

My Dad

While walking along the river with my older son yesterday, our conversation about bicycling had shifted towards some memories of my Dad -the one who was strong and fit enough to ride a bike even in his seventies up and over hills and mountains. He has been one of my people, and probably the one who had the greatest influence on me. He died at the age of 87 last year, and most likely, the bike wreck accident, which he had miraculously survived four years earlier (according to the doctor’s prognosis), had accelerated the time of his death.

Thinking about his last years of life, I must conclude that what I am capable of "doing unto others" is very limited. Not only because it required thousands of miles of travel to do anything for him, or because of his condition (he no longer could talk on the phone or write a letter), but also because of my own limits. During my last visit, I realized how much my Dad would have liked to move back into his familiar surroundings with my mother, instead of lying in some private room in a clinic. My heart was aching for him, yet there were only a few small gestures and a little conversation I could do on my part. Once more he had unexpectedly recovered from sepsis (according to the doctor) at the time of my arrival. It had been uncertain before I left the US, whether I would get to view his body/participate in the funeral, or have one more chance to see him alive. My wish had been the latter, of course. But only two weeks later, I had to take another long trip, and this time it was to pay my duty towards my mother. My father had died, and she wanted me to come and attend the funeral. -- The aching for my Dad's suffering came to an end, but the sense of my duty toward my people continued.

Did I fulfill my duty towards my Dad?

He had recognized me. I had played some familiar melodies on a recorder. I prepared some fresh juice for him, helped feed him and, when it was sunny and warm, I took him outside in his wheelchair. I accompanied him to his last station, a home that specializing in providing care and comfort for the last stage of people's lives.
Easter Monday I had to take farewell. Everyone in my Dad's immediate family was present: Two brothers, my mother and I. I let him know, if there had been any possibility for me to transport him to our home, I would have done it. He would have been just one extra person to care for, besides my disabled son. I said that I couldn't imagine how I could get him on the air plane, however. Maybe my idea was a little irrational/ unrealistic?--Of course it was, but my idea made him smile, even laugh, and for me, it made saying "good-bye" a little easier. I trust that he understood, what I had meant: If there had been a way, I would have done it.

What I can do for others is so limited and little, but it is not meaningless or worthless.

What is "giving a cup of cold water"? We know that it can make the difference of life and death for certain people. Jesus understood our little/great needs.

"My People"

My People

My purpose for this blog is very personal. I want it to be a tool for self-examination and self-improvement in regards to priorities and relationships. It is intended to be used as my personal “mental posts” which may enable me to better concentrate on the most essential issue of my life: The Golden Rule and as it applies to my people. I have decided that my people must have priority. My way of interacting with them may not only define my eternal destiny, but may also positively or negatively influence my people’s destiny. I believe that "treating your neighbor as I would like to be treated" is a mandate not just for my short life-span on earth, but also for an eternity beyond. I believe in the voice of the one who said: "Whatsoever you have or have not done to one of the least of these my people, you did or did not do for me".


Who then are My People?

First of all, my people are the ones I share my home with. There are three adult persons who regularly sleep and eat here: My husband Jim, my older son Peter and I. I am a "Certified Family Home Provider”, because I have an adult person in my family who is developmentally disabled and unable to take care of himself, my son Peter. I have the responsibility to provide for his needs inside and outside of our home. While I must adhere to the various rules for the home that the state regulates and requires, I also have to negotiate with various agencies about appropriate work and developmental services for Peter. Every once in a while my younger son Jason shows up to spend the night and/or eat a meal. My older daughter Sara lives in town, and my younger daughter Anna lives in Arizona. I am not including the names of my grandchildren here, because I am not primarily responsible for them, however, they have a very special place in my heart and life also. The rest of my close family members live in Switzerland. In as much as I have direct contact with these my people they must be my main priority and responsibility.

Did I fulfill my duty today?

I was working out this morning, when my younger son Jason approached and asked, if I would iron his shirt. I hesitantly said: "I could". After going through a check list of questions in my mind (is it necessary?--should he do it himself?—am I spoiling him?—have I failed to teach him?--), I went to the iron board and did it. I knew that my son had stayed up late last night to submit an assignment due before midnight and that he hardly had a minute to spare before heading out the door.  My hypothesis is:

My people may not ask for a service, unless they do not have the time or capability to do it themselves.