The art of giving what’s dearly needed and completely unexpected
The rain had come in torrents all morning, and the first thing I did when I got home from serving at The Healing Center was to check the sump pump in our basement.
Both the primary and the backup pumps were running nonstop, but the water was nevertheless slowly rising inside the sump pit. The rain showed no signs of abating, so I went through the finished half of our basement lifting extension cords off the floor. Within 30 minutes, the pit was full and water started seeping up through the seams in the concrete. I scrambled to get some of the rugs up and then stood and watched the water flow from several corners, eventually covering most of the basement.
This was the fourth time in three years this had happened, amid extensive and expensive efforts to address the problem.
I texted my friend, “Well, in spite of all my efforts to mitigate my water issue, I have wet floors in the basement again. It’s time to call in an expert.”
We spoke on the phone later that day, and he readily agreed to come the next morning, after the rains had finished, with his shop vac and dehumidifier, to help me.
Ten minutes after that conversation, he called me back. I was fixing dinner while Evelyn watched. “Mark, I want to manage the process of choosing a contractor to fix your basement,” he said. “I’ll do the research, get the estimates, and help you decide what to do next. You need this like you need a hole in the head, and I can help.”
I started to respond, but my voice caught in my throat and I couldn’t speak for a full 30 seconds. I’d been telling myself how well I’m doing, so I was surprised, embarrassed in fact, by my reaction to his offer. And overwhelmingly grateful. He was giving exactly what I needed, but I would never have asked him.
Needed but unrequested
It’s happened before. I hadn’t even thought to ask when one friend volunteered to stay with Evelyn every Friday so I can continue serving at the Healing Center. Every Friday!
Another friend cooked for two days and brought coolers full of food when she and her husband came from out of town to visit. We enjoyed her food from our freezer for weeks.
Another longtime friend had occasionally stayed with Evelyn while I was out, and she noticed the baseboards in our guest bathroom needed cleaning. So the next time she came, she brought a bucket and rags and cleaned them. And the grout between the tile in the floor. And the baseboards in the hallway outside the bathroom, and those around the entryway by the front door. On her hands and knees. Baseboards!
Never would I ever have asked any of these friends to serve us in these ways. They saw a need (I may not even have realized it) and met it without my daring to ask. This is the very best kind of giving.
What can I give?
My point here is not to suggest that more readers do more nice things for us! We have been showered with goodness, and these are only a few examples. We’re doing fine. Instead, let me challenge readers—and myself—to follow their example. Can I stop long enough and care deeply enough to see what someone needs and quietly provide it even before they ask? If so, I’ve given something special, never to be forgotten.
I remember hearing a story years ago about a fellow whose friend had died, leaving behind a family with young children. On the day before the funeral, he showed up at the widow’s house with polish and cloths and went quietly from bedroom to bedroom shining shoes. I’m guessing that mom will always remember how nice her kids looked at the service honoring their dad.
And I’m guessing I have friends who’d appreciate someone shining their shoes. Or sharing a book. Or giving them a plant from my yard for theirs. Or listening while they felt free to talk nonstop without interruption or advice.
I’m pretty busy with myself and Evelyn, and that is a convenient excuse to stay focused only on our needs. But I realize I was pretty self-involved even before her devastating diagnoses. My availability today may be limited, but it’s not eliminated. I’m feeling challenged to look deeper to discover a need I can meet for someone who would never ask for what I could offer.
Photos by Robin Gentry and ipopba at istockphoto.com
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