In Their Shoes

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Used children’s shoes  waiting for their new owners to find them at Nazareth Migrant Center

The man sitting on his cot, head bowed, eyes closed, catches my eye as I pass his room. His toddler son, wriggling on his back beside him, gleefully plays with some imaginary toy held high in the air. But the child doesn’t disturb his father. The man prays silently, deeply entrenched in a place far beyond this room.

I pause in the hallway. Quietly take in what I have just witnessed.

Granted, pausing is unusual when I’m working at the Nazareth migrant hospitality center. Most days I barely have time to gobble down a spoonful of yogurt or finish an apple.

But, I sense the beauty and preciousness of this scene. It’s worth taking a moment.

And in that sacred, tender moment, a door opens. A door through which I catch a glimpse into the life of another. A door that further opens my heart.

And I understand why I do this work.

A job that no one in her right mind would ever accept from an employer. The pay is lousy (non-existent!). No company perks. You don’t get a half-hour lunch break. In fact, you have to force yourself to remember to sit down and eat. No 15-minute coffee breaks or gathering in the company kitchen to choose a K-cup of your favorite coffee. No time for checking emails or text messaging. Not even time for friendly banter with your coworkers.

But the reward is priceless.

A connection that takes me far beyond my self-preoccupation. Beyond my judgments of how I “think” things should be.

This act of witnessing, and being with, the migrants and refugees who come through our doors – makes me forget my petty concerns.

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Every time I hear one of our “guests” tell me he hasn’t eaten much for days and is thankful for the meals we’ve offered him.

Every time a mom says how happy she is to be able to finally take a shower.

Every time a child’s face lights up when she’s given a used pair of shoes.

Every time someone says I’m kind — “muy amable, gracias,” — when I hand them a jacket or a bag of food for the journey ahead.

Every time I put myself in their shoes, I forget about my own unknown future.

But I am remembering something much more important.

Last April, at a James Finley retreat on Meister Eckhart, I wrote down these words. They struck me, because I knew this was how I desired to live my life:

“Find that person, that community, that act, that when you give yourself over to it with your whole heart, unravels your petty preoccupation with your self-absorbed self and strangely brings you home to yourself.”

That’s what I’ve found. That’s what this “work” is giving me.

The opportunity to come home to my Self.

Richard Rohr writes: “Jesus did not call us to the poor and to the pain only to be helpful; he called us to be in solidarity with the real and for own transformation. It is often only after the fact we realize that they helped us in ways we never knew we needed. This is sometimes called ‘reverse mission.’

“Only near the poor, close to ‘the tears of things’ as the Roman poet Virgil puts it, in solidarity with suffering, can we understand ourselves, love one another well, imitate Jesus, and live his full Gospel.”

In truth, I can’t really walk in their shoes. But I can pause. Be present. Keep my heart open. As I walk in solidarity alongside them.

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About Pauline

I've been a freelance writer and editor for many years and I'm seeking to follow my heart in this stage of my journey, as the major roles in my life as wife and mother have changed. Not sure where this will lead, but I'm taking one step at a time as I listen within.

Posted on October 31, 2016, in Living from the heart, transformation and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 5 Comments.

  1. Well done, Pauline. Yes, it is in the small moments, sometimes in the interruptions of life, that we can see the spark of the divine in others’ eyes, that we might feel a heart connection with someone whose life, otherwise, may appear to be utterly separate from ours. And that is what keeps us engaged in work that seems, on the surface, to be “beneath” our skills and keeps our egos, which want so desperately for us to perform heroically, in check. Staying awake and present can provide the bridge that allows us to traverse any barriers of language, culture, skin color, or class. God is in your work, mi amiga.

    Love,
    Rob

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Thank you, Pauline, for sharing your thoughts and experiences with such transparency and love. They are always relevant and poignant. May the Lord continue to bless the work that you are doing and the people you so faithfully serve and may your example be a model for all of us.
    Blessings,
    Sue

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Your words come to life, include visuals and settle deeply into my soul. The work that you have found has been given to you as a gift, found through your deep searching and extended patience. Thank you for reminding us to move away from ourselves and into the lives of those who have so little.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Maureen morrell

    Thank you Pauline. Once again your words touch my heart and give me such an important invitation to stop and be more deeply present with others.

    Love
    Maureen

    Like

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