Warning: the post you are about to read is not written by
Susan Pauling but by her slightly older and funnier sister Catherine
Brison. That’s right, we both think we
are funny and are constantly at war as to who is the funniest. Susan wants me
to write on her blog and has suggested that I call my stories “Posts from the
Trailer Park”. This sounds very funny to
Susan but it cuts deeply into my pride. Please
understand, my family has recently undergone some very intense changes. They
have included multiple job changes, the sale of our home and relocation into a
mobile home park. Not so very funny
really.
I chose this location because I have a 6 year old son,
Joshua, and he has had to say quite a few emotional goodbyes as of late. We could have parked our trailer at a RV campground
but it would have involved making new friends and constantly saying goodbye to
them (again, not funny). I thought that
my family needed community. I believe
that I was right to make this choice and it is working out fine but both my husband
and I are dealing with an unexpected shame about telling people where we live.
This has surprised us both. Joshua (being
a social butterfly) keeps making friends while we are out. He will run up to us and ask if he can tell
his new friend where we live and ask if they can come over? Keith and I just cannot bring ourselves to
say where we really live…. and we know we are wrong.
My preconceived notions about
this park have been so wrong. I expected
tattooed, pierced, drug taking, idiot hoodlums.
What I got were people. Real People. They have greeted me with open arms and have become
the immediate community I very much needed. They have more than exceeded my
expectations. But many of these people
have been through rough times and they tend to throw all their “junk” out right
upon meeting them. I have been greeted
by such statements as, “I used to be homeless, things get better.” And “I have
been clean for years now my son still uses but my husband and I are doing
good.” “I buried my child a few years
ago” and “I have custody of my daughters children, their fathers are all in
jail” (most surely not humorous). What
do you do with this much pain? They
don’t have time or use for pretense.
They throw their life stories out before me, a total stranger, and they
seem to dare me not to run. So far, I have not.
They have, in fact, been very kind to me. Their honesty has come with an
openness and acceptance that I have found a great comfort in this time of
transition.
God works in mysterious ways. Every day I pray that I can be His hands,
feet, arms and ears to these people and for God to use me while He is working
on my pride. Maybe one day I will look back on all of this and laugh-
today is
not that day, but until then…
Matthew 25:40- If you have done
it (or not) to the very least of my brethren you have done it (or not) to me.
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