WLSU, A Really Broken Ankle - Guest Speaker

It was one of those mornings. In the labyrinthine hallways of the ministorage, where I was converted through the incredulous look and gentle words of Jamie, one of my dearest pals. I crutched around a corner with a pillow in my teeth to meet Jamie, who was returning to the unit for another load. He looked at me for a second with that look of surprise, and, then, with a measure of concern, said, "Jimmy, what are you doing." Through clenched teeth, I said, "I'm helping. I can still help." To which he responded something like, "if we need that kind of help from you right now, we are in real trouble." I was good at helping. I was good at giving. I was good at being there for folks in need. I was and still am almost always game for showing. I was no good at receiving. I wasn't any good at letting others give me a bit of help or care along the way, and my unwillingness to ever be set to receive, rather than send, impeded my real ability to experience the kind of community that I had envisioned to build in this new venture. It was a block for me, and my dear friends stupefied gaze and matter of fact words caused me to turn around and see how The capital K Kingdom wouldn't work without a real measure of interdependence. How we can't just give, give, give. How something loving like giving can become absurd under certain circumstances. A grown man, on crutches, with a pillow in his teeth at 7:30 in the morning with a hive of people working around me.