Carol was always interested in my travels and adventures. She wondered at my courage to hike in the mountains of the South Island or snorkel Great Barrier Reef. She’d shake her head and call me her adventurer. I’d show her maps and tell her about my plans; my way of including her in the adventure while leaving her safely ensconced in her familiar routine. I’d prepare her well in advance, especially if I was to be away for an extended period. I’d tell her of plans I’d laid for stability at home and she’d have email access to me the whole time. She’d steel herself to carry more responsibility for others in the house. In fact, that’s how she started watering the flowers for me.
I’d also try to tell her of expected visitors or houseguests. She was gracious and generous to all, but liked to be prepared. Encountering a strange man in the hallway would have ruined her for at least a day!
One visitor that just about threw Carol in to a tailspin was our landlord. I told her he was coming for an inspection so she could tidy her room and have the downstairs kitchen ready. She immediately started a cycle of anxious thoughts which resulted in her thinking we were going to have to move out! Where would she find a place and how would she move her things and what about . . .. . . .
“STOP! He is only coming for a regular inspection! I don’t expect any changes to be made to our arrangements. Why are you anxious?”
“Well, where would I go?”
The light went on for me. Fear. I spoke quietly and firmly. “If WE ever do have to move out of this house, WE will find another place that will be HOME to ALL of US.”
The eyes that looked up in to mine were wanting to believe what she thought she’d heard but . . . . and then she relaxed. She knew, I knew, Carol was no longer renting a room, just a housemate, but part of my household and therefore my responsibility. She paid her own way, contributed heaps and added value in love and laughter, but she was dependent on me and I had just voiced my commitment to her. That commitment grew. We had our rocky times. She tested certain boundaries. I had to figure out what was grace and what was enabling her to go too far, to push things with me that she wouldn’t be able to if she should ever have to stay elsewhere.
One day as we were discussing grace again, just a casual reference to a response to something, Carol said, “You don’t need to tell me about grace anymore.”
I thought maybe I’d overdone it, pushed something of my faith on to her.
Carol continued, “I’ve seen grace and that makes it more true than words can explain. Living here, in this home, I see grace lived.”
My challenge then was to affirm what she had said and yet, not show her the tears that threatened to spill over. The one thing I valued most, she had seen in me! Yes! If that provided her a measure of safety and confidence, then I’d accomplished more than I had thought possible. My tears would have confused her and stifled future open conversations. Carol was highly intellectual, but socially stunted. She told me she thought she’d gotten stuck at about age twelve and not developed emotionally beyond then. I hate to think what might have caused that. I hate to think of the dreams that made her avoid sleeping, of the fears she managed each and every day, of the distorted view of herself because of the cruelty of others.
to be continued . . .
I’d also try to tell her of expected visitors or houseguests. She was gracious and generous to all, but liked to be prepared. Encountering a strange man in the hallway would have ruined her for at least a day!
One visitor that just about threw Carol in to a tailspin was our landlord. I told her he was coming for an inspection so she could tidy her room and have the downstairs kitchen ready. She immediately started a cycle of anxious thoughts which resulted in her thinking we were going to have to move out! Where would she find a place and how would she move her things and what about . . .. . . .
“STOP! He is only coming for a regular inspection! I don’t expect any changes to be made to our arrangements. Why are you anxious?”
“Well, where would I go?”
The light went on for me. Fear. I spoke quietly and firmly. “If WE ever do have to move out of this house, WE will find another place that will be HOME to ALL of US.”
The eyes that looked up in to mine were wanting to believe what she thought she’d heard but . . . . and then she relaxed. She knew, I knew, Carol was no longer renting a room, just a housemate, but part of my household and therefore my responsibility. She paid her own way, contributed heaps and added value in love and laughter, but she was dependent on me and I had just voiced my commitment to her. That commitment grew. We had our rocky times. She tested certain boundaries. I had to figure out what was grace and what was enabling her to go too far, to push things with me that she wouldn’t be able to if she should ever have to stay elsewhere.
One day as we were discussing grace again, just a casual reference to a response to something, Carol said, “You don’t need to tell me about grace anymore.”
I thought maybe I’d overdone it, pushed something of my faith on to her.
Carol continued, “I’ve seen grace and that makes it more true than words can explain. Living here, in this home, I see grace lived.”
My challenge then was to affirm what she had said and yet, not show her the tears that threatened to spill over. The one thing I valued most, she had seen in me! Yes! If that provided her a measure of safety and confidence, then I’d accomplished more than I had thought possible. My tears would have confused her and stifled future open conversations. Carol was highly intellectual, but socially stunted. She told me she thought she’d gotten stuck at about age twelve and not developed emotionally beyond then. I hate to think what might have caused that. I hate to think of the dreams that made her avoid sleeping, of the fears she managed each and every day, of the distorted view of herself because of the cruelty of others.
to be continued . . .
Comments
I'm capivated and log in each mornign for the next part!
Love you & now that I find myself back in Indy I miss you more than ever!