Brave Enough To Be Bliss

information service for the blind, visually impaired, and print disabled individuals. I would periodically go to their office and read newspapers or magazines. While verifying online that I remembered the name of the service correctly, I noticed on the website there are now auditions required to be a reader. That certainly wasn’t the case back then or I wouldn’t have even applied. I just wanted to do something that helped people. In the winter of my freshman year, I volunteered for an overnight shift at the homeless shelter. I remember being unsure where to enter the facility and almost talked myself out of going in, but since I had said I would be there, I knew I had to go through with it. Things like that, not knowing where I was going or who would be there or what I would do exactly, felt overwhelming. I just felt so scared to go in and face the unknown. But I disliked letting people down more than anything, so I forced myself to go in and face whatever was there. I remember being asked to sit behind a table where the homeless would check in. I was to make them feel comfortable and welcome and let them know they could get something to eat and then select a cot. I was also told there would be someone in the back if any fights broke out or I needed help. That made me a little nervous inside, but there wasn’t anything I could do about it, so I just hoped it would be OK. Someone else was supposed to volunteer with me, but that person didn’t show up , which I understood since I had wanted to back out too. So, all night I sat at that table and watched to make sure everything was OK. Most of the people, all men as I recall, just slept on the cots that were provided in this one large room, perhaps a gymnasium. The lights were all off except for one dim light behind me. In the middle of the night, I remember one gentleman came to the t able and asked a question, but then just started talking to me about how he became homeless. I don’t recall all the details, but basically, he had been a professor at KU with a “normal” life until he lost his family. After that everything changed, and he lost the will to do anything at all. I have no idea how I responded or if I did. I just remember feeling so badly for him, seeing how much it still hurt him talking about it, and wishing there was something I could do to make it better. I never volunteered there again. Within a short period of time, I decided social work wasn’t something I could do because I wouldn’t be able to go home and not think about the people I was trying to help. And knowing I couldn’t fix their issues, I decided to stick with pre-journalism as my major. I read the book When Bad Things Happen to Good People , by Harold S. Kushner, and I remember questioning why I was reading the book because nothing that bad had ever happened to me, but I read it anyway. When I was reading the Bible, I would randomly open it and read until I felt like something was meant for me. I wrote a lot of verses in a journal that my stepmother had given me, which I still have to this day and have added more verses and inspirational quotes to it through the years. I believe those are the tools that helped keep me alive. I didn’t get to know anyone my age in Lawrence. I had a great aunt and uncle who I had dinner with a couple times, but I barely spoke to anyone in class, and I hardly went anywhere else. I just stayed in my dorm room and then my studio apartment the next fall and kept to myself. Eventually though, I thought I had found an answer. I decided Jesus must have kept me alive so I could make sure no one I came into contact with would ever feel as alone and unloved as I felt. I would see the people behind their outer shells. I would see the pain they hid just like I did. I would reach out to them, even if it was just by saying hello or smiling at them. I would see them; they wouldn’t pass by me without being acknowledged. I would notice the pain in their eyes; I wouldn’t necessarily unders tand it, but I would see it and if I could help, I would. I would do the best I could as a human to exhibit the type of acceptance and love that Jesus would offer if He were here walking this earth. He would see their pain, He would care it was there even if He didn’t fix it, He would believe in them, and most of all He would simply love them. I may n ot be able to do much of anything valuable on this earth, but I figured I could do that. I surmised Jesus kept me alive so maybe I could help keep other hurting people alive. “ No one is useless in this world who lightens the burden of it for anyone else. ” Charles Dickens

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