Stick-Figure Families--Rodosevich Style

It is truly unfortunate that those stick-figure families on the back of the mini-van aren’t more forthcoming. Sure, it’s possible to ascertain how many family members there are, their genders, and maybe even if said family includes pets. What the stick-figure families don’t tell us is so much more interesting.

For example, the rear windshield of the pride and joy of the Rodosevich family—a slick fire-truck red dodge charger—would display a man, named Tyler, a woman named Savanna(h), and a young boy also named Tyler, but more fondly referred to as “Little Ty.” Sitting beside Little Ty would be a dog called “Char” (short for “Char Char Binks” not “Charlotte”) and an exceedingly energetic cat named Leo.

On a sunny afternoon in Sharon Springs, KS I joined the Rodosevich family in their home, a restful white house sidled against an empty city street, shaded by elm trees. Inside, Savannah was putting finishing touches on her already stunning face. Her full cheeks perked up into a smile as she greeted us.

“This is little Ty,” she said.

Little Ty gave us a timid look and scooted on his wheeled toy behind the couch so he could peer out at his strange new visitors.

“Say hello,” Tyler prompted, smiling down at his son.

Little Ty mumbled something that sounded sort of like hello. Within a couple of minutes, Little Ty was holding my husband’s hand, leading him to the couch, and telling him about his favorite movie (the Croods).

“I’m glad we taught him about stranger danger,” Tyler said sarcastically, sharing a look with Savannah.

Within a couple of minutes, the small family was dressed and ready.

Little Ty was immediately fascinated with the camera and Savannah and Tyler explained to him that I would be taking pictures of them together.

“Strike a pose,” Savannah said.

This is what he came up with:

Little Ty’s first picture was symbolic of how the rest of the photo shoot would go. This young family was full of spirit, and even though Savannah had to brave the sunshine and there were some iffy moments….

 

Like this time...

Or the time Tyler went digging for gold...

Or the time Little Ty laid down on Tyler's face. (Ah, the joys of parenthood.)

...they survived the photoshoot.

All three of the family members were excited to see the pictures once we were done. Well… Savannah and Tyler were eager to see the pictures. Little Ty was excited to transform himself with a fleshy, rubbery, green monster hand and terrorize the city (house) and its inhabitants. When he tuckered out, he laid up next to his sidekick (Char), took off the monster hand, and enjoyed yet another summer night with his family.

As Little Ty laid against man's best friend and Savannah sat curled up against Tyler, my mind drifted to the stick-figure families. What is a family? Is it limited to blood relations? Marriage? Friendship? Is family the people we choose, the people who choose us, or just some trick of fate? Maybe it’s all three. Whatever it is, the Rodosevich family showed me how beautiful it can be.

Just a glance.

As I sit at Starbucks writing this, I feel like a giant stereotype. (Oh, you're a writer? Oh, you're at Starbucks? How original.) To top it off, I have my big purse, glasses on, and a yoga mat sitting in a Donjoy bag on the ground by my feet. From time to time I pause my hurried scribbles, and I look across the street, gathering my thoughts or covertly watching people as they pass in front of me on the sidewalk. Often, I pick up my--what's the coffee-lingo word for medium?--tea and take a sip noting my misspelled name and hearing the ice cubes tumble against the plastic cup.

For a moment, I wonder what people must think of me as they walk by. Maybe they don't notice me at all... But, if it were me walking by, I know what I would notice. I would see a girl, frizzy hair from the summer humidity, scrawling on a cheap notepad, drinking overpriced black tea that she probably could have made better (and cheaper) at home, with an iPhone 4 and an unlabeled purse. I might give her a small smile before I looked away, but only if she had caught me observing her. Then, I'd carry on my way and probably not ever give her a second thought...

I wonder what people would see if they actually took the time to know me.

They'd realize I wasn't a Tennessee girl the second I said "hello" without their charming southern drawl. From there, they might discover from my wide eyes and my fascination of the novel surroundings that I'm new to Nashville. If they noticed the darkness underneath my eyes, they could tell that stress has taken the place of a good night's sleep over the last week. The brace around my middle would indicate joint problems that constantly render me in-pain and irritable. Once they asked me about the weather, it would become obvious how much I deplore small talk, and my shy smile would show them my social anxiety.

If they take the conversation in the right direction, they might discover who I am.

I'm a Kansas transplant. I was raised to say please and thank you. I know the value of hard work. I would sooner step in a cow patty than let someone struggle with something without offering help. I'm just as comfortable in Wranglers and boots as I am in athletic shorts and tennis shoes. Before I even have a conversation with someone I'm thinking about all of the possible outcomes so I'll know just what to say, and I'll be thinking about the conversation afterwards wondering what I could/should have said differently. If someone would have asked me my five year plan a couple years ago, I could have answered without taking a beat. Now, I would rather stick my head in wet sand than answer. At 19 I married the love of my life. I'm a nonconformist, and if someone tells me I should do something one way, I'll probably do it just the opposite. (I get that from my dad's side of the family.) I'm a writer. A thinker. An agriculturalist. An advocate. A Catholic. A do-er. I will do what it takes to be successful and my idea of being successful is being useful.

So, as I sit along the sidewalk, scrawling in my notebook, I can't help but think...

What do we miss, when we look at someone with just a glance?

It's a metaphor.

My feet slide against the loose gravel as I move forward down the trail. Crunch. Swish. Crunch. Crunch. Swish. Crunch. The rhythm lulls me into a form of hypnosis. I’m not worried about where I’m going. The trail will take me there. My journey is safe, familiar… repetitious. A steady ache fills my legs as I trek on down the trail. Crunch. Swish. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. I stop. Look around. There are trees on both sides of me, each the fraternal twin of the other—related somehow. Shockingly similar, somehow different. Humidity rolls off of the trees and beads on my forehead, curling my hair and placing the tangy flavor of sweat around my lips. I scratch the back of my neck. Birds chirp softly, scoring the soundtrack of my worries.

                Ahead of me the trail twists into two separate directions. The proverbial fork in the road has me just as a portending storm or a relentless river beating on the boulders. What just happened? I wonder. Moments prior my footing had been as certain as the July heat, my purpose as clear as a toddler’s eyes. Now my thoughts were just as muddy as that torrid river. What should I do? Where do I go from here?

                I pass the afternoon in that position. Humid sweat dripping into my furrowed brow, mosquitos tormenting my slick skin, birds patiently sing my thinking song. The trees aren’t even immune to my internal struggle, as they shiver in anticipation from the breeze that plays across their leaves. A sigh escapes my parted lips.

                I close my eyes, and a ball of sweat slides from my eyebrows as they relax. One foot moves forward. Crunch. My back toe lifts up. Swish. The other foot moves ahead. Crunch. And so my path is sealed. The trees sway and move across the fork behind me; it was as if the other trail never existed. There will be no turning around.

                My feet slide against the loose gravel as I move forward down the trail. Crunch. Swish. Crunch. Crunch Swish. Crunch. The rhythm lulls me into a form of hypnosis. I’m not worried about where I’m going. The trail will take me there.

Cheers to two years.

Exactly one year ago today, Ty and I touched our feet back onto American soil ending what had truly been the adventure of a lifetime. We'd just spent one month in Costa Rica, and the five months before that in Europe, mostly in the Czech Republic. We weren't quite sure how those travels would affect us, we only knew that they had.

I didn't know that every time I saw a girl with bushy, curly blond hair I would think of how every time I met up with my friend Susan I would look for her hair in hopes of finding her. I didn't know that every time I had a free period, I would wish that I could ask my friend, Lasma, to get some coffee from the local vending machine and pass the hour with me. The fact that I would feel more out of place in a Walmart than I ever did in a small local market was another surprise. Or maybe the fact that I missed so much the conversation I shared with people of other nationalities, where smiles and hand gestures had to make up where lack of language rendered spoken communication ineffective. I didn't know that from time to time I would get a far-off look in my eyes, a wistful smile on my lips, and think back of all the mishaps, inside jokes, and beautiful countryside that I had enjoyed so much.

Other times, like now, I look at my life, and I know I've reached a crossroads; a path that once I go down it, there will be no turning around. A time will come to pass where I will no longer be able to go out on the town on a whim, or traipse across a continent with the guise of education. By entering certain doors, I have knowingly (and unknowingly) permanently closed other doors.

Each life change has come with expectations.

Exactly two years ago today, Ty and I touched our feet onto a grassy pasture north of Wallace, Kansas. He wore a black suit and a smile. I wore a white dress and a veil. Our friends and families sat in borrowed folding chairs as Mr. Rick Dewees joined us in the holy sacrament of marriage.

The day had been ours. On August 3rd, everyone had been preparing for what was sure to be another 100+ degree day. Our guests were dressed in light sun dresses and other summer formal wear. Instead, a light gray cloud drifted over the prairie occluding the hot summer sun. A light mist fell from the heavens cooling the air, and a light breeze blew. The ceremony was short, sweet, and heartfelt. One of my friends, Clint, took a few pictures of the wedding party while my aunts, uncles, parents, and brothers loaded up the chairs.

As we pulled out of the pasture, the only sign that people had touched the earth was the small patch of mowed grass. Before we cleared the gate, fat raindrops fell from the sky. I looked over at Ty, and I can't even remember what I felt. The day that we (okay, I) worked so hard to plan was halfway over.

Soon enough we had arrived at the Township Hall, an unassuming building in the midst of Sharon Springs. The town was quiet excluding the heavy thrumming of raindrops. We ran into the building while the mist flattened the hair Clint had worked so hard to shape into the perfect up-do. A man I knew to be our DJ approached me, and the ball got rolling.

Ty and I shared our first (clumsy) dance as man and wife.

My dad and I danced to "My Little Girl" by Tim McGraw.

And while Ty was dancing with his mother, my dad sat by me and cried. Tears rolled down his face just as thick and sure as they were falling outside. I can't remember exactly what he said, but I remember feeling... different. This man who taught me to be tough. Taught me to get back on the horse even if I was scared to death of falling again. Who could build fence, braid a rope, tend to a calf, stand up for himself, was crying.

I don't think I'll come close to understanding until--God willing--I have a child of my own that I have to give away, and maybe not even then. But, now, I think I'm closer to understanding than I was before.

Genesis 2:24 says, "...a man shall leave his father and his mother, and be joined to his wife; and they shall become one flesh."

Maybe, he was crying because he was saying goodbye.

And even though I didn't know it at the time, I was saying goodbye too. I was saying goodbye to who I had been for the last nineteen years. I was saying goodbye to the ability to be selfish. I was saying goodbye to privacy. I was saying goodbye to being courted by men. I was saying goodbye to being me.

Ty's and my wedding was just that, a wedding, and as my aunt, Cindy, says, "We believe in marriages in this family, not weddings." So even though August 3rd marks this great day where I said goodbye to myself, my old self, and said hello to the new me that was born of one flesh with my new husband, Ty, it isn't significant in the grand scheme of life. What is significant are the last two years... 730 days of Ty and me being married, learning together, growing (even if that meant growing pains), and learning each day what the sacrament of marriage is all about.

It has been different than I ever could have imagined it. Harder than the imaginings of a 19 year old girl. But, I hope in the years to come, Ty and I can learn, struggle, hope, and love even more than I ever could have imagined.

Pining for another adventure!

     Hey, it's Ty with yet another adventure that Kelsie and I were lucky enough to take to San Isabel, Colorado.

This is the sort of view we saw all the time, while hiking.

Our time there began with amazing drive up to about 8300 ft to Kelsie's Aunt and Uncle's lake house. Bob and Cindy were kind enough to let us stay there for about 5 days and they were right next to the lake.

Once I stepped out of the car my senses were taken to another place.

• The view of this amazing lake nestled in a valley with birds and trees everywhere
• The smell of cedar, pine, and fish brought me instantly to nature
• The sound of hummingbirds whizzing past and trees rustling in a light breeze
• The feeling of cool air and being in a place so close to nature and the disconnect from civilization

We participated in many activities but the one we did every day was sit on the porch of the lake house and looked down upon Lake Isabel.

This is a view of the lake we could see everyday from the Lake House

Lake Isabel had the views and activities that made the week full of activities that amounted to mostly exercise. We canoed and chased these ducks around the lake but nothing crazy so we didn't flip over.
Kelsie's cousin Lillie and I biked around the lake and we also walked around the lake. If you ever want to visit the lake then here is

The black square in the first picture stands for the general area of San Isabel and the zoomed in portion is where we stayed.

The first and second day we all went ATVing around many beautiful places. Here are a few more pictures:

This is an old abandoned cabin at Marion Mine, Kelsie and her Uncle Bob went and visited this remote place.

A great capture of the high views on another trail that we took with the ATV with Bob and Cindy on day 2.  

After coming back down to a place where there is no cell service we had no choice but to hike a few trails that later turned out to be fantastic finds. The very first hike had the plan that we would run into some magnificent natural water slides/ After a little bit of difficulty to get around some of the rocks and stream; we made it to our destination.

The water slides started out what to be a huge rock that got carved out by the running water. It now makes for a fantastic ride down where you end up falling off the edge of a steep fall...okay maybe not steep.

As Kelsie shows the perfect form (because you're frozen in the form you start in) she ends up right there in the bottom pool that is very easy to escape.

Kelsie and I were completely safe (other than hypothermia) because there were 2-3 year old children that made it there with their parents and everyone was having a great time.

After that day we decided to go hiking again the next day and on a trail called Second Mace Trail. It's called Mace because of its treacherous hills and loose dirt. The combination of altitude and steep hills created hard times for Kelsie and I but some wonderful peace and serenity.

This is Kelsie admiring her accomplishment 

This is her celebrating her time after finishing that crazy climb

Lastly, we had to go to the main tourist site that is only about 3 miles away from the lake house. Bishop's Castle was built solely by one guy by the name of Jim Bishop. He actually built it up to 160 foot tall.

Kelsie actually took this picture from 30 feet in the air. It is incredible that this was built by one person. 

He was financially supported by many and he also used his space for memorabilia. Those glass windows have anniversary, death, and birth dates on them. 

I did not want to go up any higher than about 1/2 way because of the fact I was too scared to. Some of the parts looked dangerous at that height and that stopped me from going higher.

Before I sign off, I would like to thank Bob and Cindy for their wonderful hospitality and great guiding. I will finish with me celebrating the water slide finish!

YES!!! Thanks for reading!

TexHOMEa - way from home

A little funny that aptly describes my sentiments about the weather, and kicks off this post about our time at Lake Texoma.

On a more serious note...
Ty and I have traveled quite a bit so far. We have been blessed to have the opportunity to travel to thirteen different countries, and live in two of those countries. Granted, it was over a period of six months, but it was still quite an adventure. In addition to that great period of our lives, we are also fortunate to have family that live in some pretty neat places, Colorado, Kansas, Arkansas, Texas, and New Mexico to name a few. I promise I'm not being sarcastic. The Eiffel Tower doesn't have anything on the high plains of Texas, the greenery of Arkansas, the rolling wheat fields of Kansas and the blue mountains of Colorado. Nor, does it have anything on the great time we had visiting Lake Texoma (a first for me) with Ty's Stelting grandparents, his dad, and Kim.

Our first stop of the trip was in Weatherford, Oklahoma. It's a city with a small college in central Oklahoma. It has everything you need, from great food, great company, red dirt, a Walmart, and if you're feeling really adventurous, a the Tom Stafford space museum. (Okay, I was being a little sarcastic about the museum.) We visited with Ty's grandparents while our dog, Papi did his best to drive their dog, Bella, to insanity.

Later on, we left the dogs to settle their differences while we went to Corn, Oklahoma to visit Ty's great grandma Marie. And, yes, there is actually a town named Corn. It's a bit like the towns I'm familiar with, you know, the ones that consist of a gas station, a nursing home, a few paved streets, and more churches than there are residents. I really like Weatherford and Corn, and I thing it would be pretty aMAIZEing if we could settle there one day. ;) Anyway, Grandma Marie proved great to visit as always. We visited and she showed us one of the quilts she was making. I hope one day she'll be able to make a quilt for a future mini-Stelting.

After a brief visit in Corn, we went back to Weatherford in preparation of the trip to come. We woke up early... well early to me, and left to Lake Texoma at around 9:30 in the morning.

Lake Texoma is the bit of water with the big red teardrop on it (thanks, Google), and I circled in red some of the surrounding communities we visited. The black line is the border of Texas, so, as you can see, we were literally a hop a skip and a small swim away from ten gallon hats and larger than normal things.

When we arrived, we quickly learned what real summer-time heat was. We've been fortunate up until about a couple of weeks ago to have fairly mild summer weather. Clearly, Mother Nature had different ideas for our trip. Most of the week, we had heat indices of more than 100 degrees, and the humidity was a shock, even for us Eastern Kansas folks. However, we proved the saying that "you're only bored if you choose to be" saying true. Even though it was too hot to go out on the boat or do almost anything that didn't involve ice cream and air conditioning, we found ways to entertain ourselves.

The first night, we took the golf carts out and drove around the lake, so I could see it for the first time.

Of course, what's a lake view without having your handsome man at your side?... and bug spray. Definitely can't forget about the bug spray.

Ty's dad, David, and David's girlfriend Kim, joined us that night around 7:30, so we got in some good quality time with them on the first day. We know first handedly that nothing brings people closer together than air conditioning, good food, and a game of Mexican Train.

Day 2 at the lake, we decided to see what the lake had to offer. We drove to one area where every childhood dream came true... for a price. There was a band camp going on, girls waving flags around, a huge swimming area complete with lakeside trampolines, slides, and other fun toys, as well as mini golf. Unfortunately, the lake fun area was only there for looks (for us at least) because it would have cost $10 per hour, per person! Can you say extortion? So, we chose the more economical, and actually more fun option of mini golf, another first for me!

Here's Grandma at one of the holes along with all of the men in her family: Ty, David, and Jerald.

So, I'm not going to say that it took me more than five strokes on my first hole, but I'm not going to say that it took me less than six. You figure that one out. Either way, Grandpa Stelting won by a landslide, and me.... well, I just tried to hide the tears.

Later on that day we went swimming at a FREE swimming area, which proved to be a nice, refreshing way to spend the afternoon. I'd forgotten how much I enjoy swimming in lakes up until then and I bothered Ty basically every day to go swimming with me in the evenings. (Final score, me: 2, Ty: 1)

Wednesday morning, I was fortunate to make the acquaintance of both Mike and Phyllis. Phyllis had attended Ty's and my wedding, but in all of the excitement that had ensued, I hadn't really gotten the chance to get to know her. Papi didn't get to know them either, so, our dog proceeded to embarrass us by alerting us to their terribly frightening (sarcasm again!) presence every time we saw them. Papi also showed how smart he is by barking incessantly at a ceramic cat in their house. Thank gosh he warned us, because I don't know if that fake cat would have let us escape alive. It's always the inanimate object you've gotta look out for.

However, Papi definitely didn't get his "intelligence" from his adoptive pet parents, because one of the most enjoyable days we spent, was our day in Tishomingo. (Yes, that is an actual town name.) We spent the bulk of the morning exploring the three museums that the town had to offer, much of it revolving around the Chickesaw indians.

About midway through our walk around one museum, a nice lady came to share more information about the Chickesaw. I could be wrong, but I think she does have native american heritage, and she was really eager to inform us on their history.

The gang's all here!... Too bad the selfie-stick wasn't. ;)

One of the main attractions of Tishomingo is a store named the "Pink Pistol." Miranda Lambert opened it up, because, if I'm not mistaken, Tishomingo is her home town. Personally, the store kind of creeped me out because it was kind of like a Miranda Lambert shrine mixed with a pink explosion mixed with some weird cardboard cutouts of her current ex-husband Blake Shelton. (I think they're taking those out now that the divorce is going through....)

That couch was worth about a million bucks more with Grandpa sitting on it!

The rest of Tishomingo was filled with botiques where you could find anything from hand painted signs to homemade jams. Again, air conditioning was "da real MVP."

We spent a couple of more days going to surrounding towns checking out the local shops, and even watched a movie one day. I think I might have shocked Ty's grandparents by my constant need to be doing something, so I'm sure it was a relief for them when they finally were able to sit down at the end of the day without me asking what we were going to do next!

Unfortunately, our time at Lake Texoma had to end. So we packed up our bags, squeezed them into the back of the car (how is it you always have a harder time leaving a place than you do on your way there?), and headed back to the great town of Weatherford.

We did make one pit stop along the way in Sulfur, Oklahoma. (Yes, also a real town!) It's named for the high amount of sulfur and it's rotten-egg stench. Ty halfway fulfilled some strange childhood dream of drinking the water there... until he spit it back out. Apparently it wasn't very good.

A couple of hours and a bathroom break later, we were in Weatherford for our last night: Sunday night.. aka Pizza night! We ate some Little Ceasers, and fell asleep with full bellies and happy hearts.

The next morning, we were able to visit Ty's faux grandma, Ms. Norma Hale. Her dog, Pippy, and our dog, Papi, ran around until they were sick of each other while Norma made us some iced tea, gifted us with some homemade plum jelly, and showed us around her beautiful garden. We ate some of her homegrown grapes, and said goodbye.

At last, Ty and I were on the road again. With that all-too-familiar feeling of saying goodbye to something wonderful, and wondering what the road ahead had in store for us.

Comic from: https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/aa/e0/2c/aae02c986b005285de4e6a38e37087ab.jpg

The King will reply: "....

On July 1st, I ended one of the most beautiful journeys of my life.

When I began college, I thought I knew who I wanted to be, what I wanted to do, and how I wanted to do it. I devised a three-four year plan that would ultimately guide me seamlessly to my goals. I wanted to be a large-animal veterinarian. When I graduated from high school, I knew a few things 1) I was academically talented, 2) I loved working on the ranch, and, 3) I loved my family. So, working as a veterinarian in a rural area seemed like next step for me.

Then I studied abroad. It made me question myself and my beliefs. It affirmed some of my values and shattered some of my ideals. I learned about hardship, consequences, prejudice, crime, love, distance, perseverance, confidence, and true friendship. I went there thinking I would see the world, and came back realizing that what I had really seen was more of my true self. And frankly, I was confused.

What started as a five-month-long quest to see the world, change my life, and expand my horizons, has turned into an eighteen month struggle of self-discovery. While I'm still passionately pursuing that struggle, there is one thing I know: my heart has never been touched more than it has been since  November.

In November, I was hired as a Residential Advisor Substitute for a company in Manhattan, Kansas that provides residential services to persons with developmental disabilities. Each person is unique in his or her own person-hood, and faces unique challenges in day-to-day life. When I first started, I didn't really know what to expect, and even going in without expectations, I was still surprised. I was surprised about the lessons I learned from working with the "disabled."

1) You can't fix people. A lot of people begin working in this field with the idea that you can somehow cure a person of their disability, or can work a miracle that will totally alter this persons life. While the love that you can share with a person that has a disability can be a life-altering miracle, you won't fix them. Why? Because they don't need to be "fixed."

2) You teach people how to treat you. When I first started working with the clients, I had to show them how I expect to be treated. For some, that was me telling them that it wasn't alright for them to punch, kick, or shove me. For others, it was making it clear that cursing wouldn't be tolerated. It was easy for me to forgive them of these things, because we are all people, and are all learning. But that led me to another thought. I need to teach all people how to treat me! Why is it so easy for me to tell a client that he or she should treat me differently, but so difficult for me to confront a supervisor about inappropriate behavior?

3) If someone is treating you poorly, it is because they don't know better. I'm guilty of taking everything personally. Whether it's a supervisor being short with me on the phone, or a teacher giving me a bad grade, or some dumb high school kid bullying me. Working with these beautiful people showed me that we are all in different stages of learning, and some people just haven't learned how to treat others.

4) You have to make yourself uncomfortable. Sometimes when I was working with very low-functioning people, I felt guilty. I felt embarrassed. I felt uncomfortable. I felt frustrated. I felt sad. I felt so many things. But these people need others to care for them, and I'm glad that I was able to contribute for only a short while. And I'm guessing that my level of discomfort was nothing compared to what some people have to endure every single day.

5) People are people. Something stressed was this phrase that goes "person first, then the disability." Let's face it, we all have disabilities. For some people, it's not knowing how to treat others politely. For others, it's being restricted by a level of physical fitness or an ailment. One of my disabilities is severe fear of judgement and a need of approval from others. So when I look at a person, whether they have a disability or not, I try to meet their soul. I try to hear their thoughts. I try to learn who they are as a person. I haven't perfected it yet, but it's something I'm working on.

6) Integrity is who you are when no one's looking. Many people act differently depending on who they're around, and I know that I have been guilty of this one too. Having integrity becomes  especially important when working with those who are blind, deaf, or mute. Everyone deserves to be treated with dignity and respect, even if they aren't able to call you out on your actions, so you have to hold yourself accountable.

7) Love people. We have to love each other no matter our faults. And it's a lot easier to deal with someone if you have a loving heart.

I've been blessed to have had such a wonderful job. When people asked me what I do, I was always pleased with their reactions. The conversation would go something like this:
Them: Where do you work?
Me: *Insert company name here*
Them: What do you do there?
Me: I'm a residential advisor, but basically I work with people with developmental disabilities and assist them in leading their lives and learning to live an independent lifestyle.
Them: Wow that's great! or You have a great personality for that! or I couldn't do that.

And I'm still pleased by the compliments. I like to think that I worked well with the clients. I like to think that others know I have a heart for service, and the patience and love it takes to work with those who have disabilities. However, I'm saddened by the last response: "I couldn't do that." Because everyone can do that. Everyone should do that in day-to-day life. We should all freely give our services to those less fortunate. I honestly believe that God gave each of us a talent, and our talents are designed to add to a beautiful and wonderful world that we can all enjoy.

I guess I don't know how to close this, as it's difficult for me to see this particular chapter of my life end. I've made great friendships with the clients, and learned so many lessons from them. So since I'm not sure how to close this, I leave with this verse I've been thinking on:

“The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me." 

Matthew 25:40.