|
Friends United Meeting |
 |
October 1997
Listening at The Home Place
By J.C. Craig
My father taught me that ministry is an attitude you take to your work. If we are open to God's direction, no matter what our work is, we will be led to opportunities to help people. My dad was an insurance agent, and while calling on people to make sales, he realized that he met a lot of people who just needed someone to listen to them. He decided God had put him there to listen to that person, so he was going to stay and listen, even if it cost him some sales or meant changing his schedule.
I think listening is probably the most important job we do at our jobs. Taking the time to take someone to the grocery, or beauty shop, play a little while with neighborhood kids, throw a ball, push a swing-those can be the most important ministries and the opportunity to be God's hands. What I have tried to do a lot in my job at The Home Place is just to sit down and talk for a while after fixing something. Once in a while a five-minute job can take three hours.
I've been invited to write about my "ministry" here. Actually, I have a difficult time thinking of it as "a ministry"; really, it is a job that offers opportunities to minister to individuals. I'd like to make this article a little memorial to my father who taught me this, and to my friends here at The Home Place who have passed on.
One of the really tough things about working in a retirement community is the regularity of death. One of the toughest for me was Herb's. Herb was a roughneck, semi-retired heating and air conditioning repairman. He smoked like a chimney and said "Beer" really loud when he burped. He was a little gruff for many of our residents, but Herb also wrote sensitive poetry and stories. Because he had divorced his first wife and remarried, he was estranged from most of his children. When Herb inevitably got lung cancer, I became a key support person for hima job that I think I would have done better if my father hadn't died of cancer two months earlier. I was unfortunately reliving a lot of that experience whenever I did anything for Herb. Herb decided he did not want chemo or radiation, but as the cancer and pain progressed he kept coming and going to the hospitals, trying to get relief. In the hospital, he couldn't rest because hospitals are noisy places where nurses, nurses-aids and doctors are always waking you up and poking and prodding you. Probably more important was the fact he couldn't smoke in the hospital. He'd check himself out of the hospital and I would drive up and bring him home. Then in a couple of days, I'd take him to a different hospital.
I tried to talk him into deciding to stick with one doctor and hospital, but he couldn't decide for himself and there was no one able to decide for him. So I mostly tried to listen to his complaints (I even gave in and got cigarettes for him on occasion-it would only speed the process a little) and hear his stories. Like the time when Herb was in California and had a repair call. Max Baer (Jethro from the Beverly Hillbillies) opened the door. After he was done with the repair he was given a swimsuit, invited out to the pool, and introduced to Max's guests. Herb said you can tell a lot about people by the way they treat repair people or anyone they hire. Some people won't give you the time of day, but here's a guy-a big star at the time-who invites in a complete stranger (one who probably looked pretty rough) like a friend. Of course Max probably found out, as I did, that if you judge a book by its cover you can miss out on some wonderful stories.
Another person I listened to was Jim Marshall. Jim had a severe stroke at least ten years before I met him. Due to the stroke, he had no sense of balance and his speech was very slurred. Everyone tells me I should have known Jim before his stroke: he was a minister, an excellent communicator and an athlete. Jim was still an athlete-during the summer he would ride his three-wheel bike most of the day. He couldn't speak as he did in the days when he preached from the pulpit, but a lot of communicating is having something worth saying, using few words, and repeating yourself. It was often necessary for Jim to repeat a sentence 15 or more times, and he was patient enough to repeat himself until you understood. When I talked to Jim while he was out on his bike, he would often direct me to things of beauty such as the sunset or children playing but, on occasion, he spotted something around the property I needed to fix.
Jim could not walk because he would immediately lose his balance and fall. But he could crawl, and Jim had the upper body strength to pull himself up to anything he needed to get. Crawling gave Jim as much freedom of mobility as most people who walk. His wife, Ruth, said it was very diffcult for Jim to decide to crawl. It seemed undignified for a grown man to crawl, but if he hadn't he would have been confined to a wheel chair the rest of his life. Jim was such an inspiration! He taught me about patience, enjoying what life had to offer, and the things we can accomplish if we're humble enough to crawl.
Finally, I'd like to say something about Dorothy Sellars. Dorothy was kind of the heart of The Home Place. I still am not sure exactly how it worked that way. There are some people who calm us and make things more pleasant just by their presence. That was the effect Dorothy usually had. The first thing Dorothy did when I met her was to tease me about something; I came right back and teased her. We hit it off pretty well from the start.
We have coffee hour at The Home Place at 8:15, and it is a good way for me to find out what needs to be done around the complex. I usually show up about ten minutes after the coffee hour starts, and Dorothy would chant, "A Diller, A Dollar, A Ten O'Clock scholar, He used to get up at Ten O'Clock, now he gets up at noon." Of course, one day she showed up late and I chanted it to her. She looked at me and said, "Oh, poo."
I always thought that when we lost Dorothy it would be very hard for me to continue here, but I am still going. However, I have noticed that I am tending to pull away from getting as close to residents that have serious health problems. It seems like it gets harder and harder to lose these friends. Which is strange; one would think a person would get better at dealing with losses. However, it seems losing one person just reminds you of all the others, so you end up mourning more and more.
I guess when that baggage gets to the point you can't minister effectively it is time to move on, and try to find someplace where you can be more effective. But I know, if I am patient and observant, I can make anything I do my own ministry. And you can do the same, if you are open to God's direction.
The Home Place is a "independent living" retirement community in the southwest corner of Indianapolis. It has sixty one- and two-bedroom ground-floor apartments some with attached garages on a 10 acre campus. The residents range from "55 to 92," many still work and most are active members of the neighboring communities. The Home Place is designed for people who no longer need a big house and want to get rid of the upkeep hassles of a house in order to have time to pursue their own activities and interests. J.C. Craig co-manages The Home Place, concentrating on marketing and maintenance, with Gene Blain who concentrates on bookkeeping and food service.
J.C. writes, "We'd be happy for anyone who is interested to come
and look around. Our phone number is (317) 856-3295."
Copyright (c) 1997 Friends United Meeting
Return to October 1997 Contents page