When I was six, my family loaded up in our Suburban, snagged two of my cousins to join us, and headed east.  Destination…. Walt Disney World!  We towed a pop-up camper behind us and camped our way to Orlando.  What a fun… and HOT trip!  We went in the middle of summer, so the heat made waiting in the long, winding lines rather grueling.  But I did a little experiment in those never-ending lines.  With all of the grumpy, overheated, tired faces staring down at me, I smiled. The result? If I smiled at them… they would smile back.  This brightened their faces, and I have to believe their mood, if only even a tiny degree…

This is one of the first memorable times in my life that I felt this deep desire to help people.  I have found this to be my calling.  I have a conviction to the core of my being to help people.  I don’t always have the right words, or even “know what to do”, but I know that I have this deep purpose woven into the fibers of my very being.

During college, I floundered around attempting to decide on my major.  I finally decided that a degree in Social Work was the best route for me to be able to “help people”.   

I called upon my Social Work professors during times of collegiate hardship, and I was enchanted by their kind and gentle spirits.  Helpers.  They made great eye contact.  Listened with compassion. Offered feedback.  Got me in to a doctor who wasn’t taking new patients.  Found me a job at their church.  Helpers. Action-takers.  

I decided that if I continued down the track of earning a degree in social work, I would, in fact, somewhat magically, become “one of them”.  I earned my degree, and went on through graduate school with them, as they assisted in finding me grant money to pursue my Masters degree in Social Work.  I’m not sure that I have ever become like them, but I am confident that these beautiful humans changed me at the soul level.  Such love and compassion they showed.

As I have soldiered on through life and work, I have learned that my purpose is not something that is only found in a career, but in how I live my life.  It guides me when I am looking at the trajectory of my life.  Helping people can take on a variety of shapes and forms, and my formerly narrow definition of “helping” has expanded and developed over the years into something new. These days, it might look something like this:

It might look like sitting with a friend in her grief, as she has just given birth to a lifeless baby… not having the words to heal the situation, but being by her side to embody my love and heartbreak with her.

It might look like being bored to tears ;) as I listen to my son teach me more about Minecraft than I ever cared to know so that we can build even more connection in our relationship.

It might look like planning family vacations, to offer our kids some foundational travel experiences on which to look back with fondness and security in our family bond.

It might look like giving myself permission to take some time and space away from my family so that I can love them better after my introverted self is recharged.

It might look like inviting my screaming-at-the-top-of-her-lungs in anger three year old to come sit in my lap to calm down.

It might look like the opening the blinds for one of my hospice patients, and turning her wheelchair to look outside as she eats lunch alone in her room.

And it just might look like smiling at someone in the grocery store… once we can finally shop without facemasks…