Igor leaves tomorrow. This morning as I was getting ready for work Jami asked me the same question she has asked me the past 5 years at this time. It's a question that I have known was coming for the past 6 weeks. Actually, I have thought about the question and dreaded it for much longer than that. On the surface it isn't a difficult question, but the places it takes my thoughts make for a mentally overwhelming day.
"How much money do you want to send home with Igor?"
A little background information for those of you that don't know. We estimate that Igor's father earns about 370.00 USD per month. Based on the cost of goods in Belarus, that doesn't go quite as far as 370 USD in the USA. There are social programs in Belarus that prevent the type of extreme poverty in other parts of the world, but there isn't much to speak of after survival needs are met. A little more background information. Igor is a good boy, I really like him and would love to help him and his family.
Sooooo....
"How much money do you want to send home with Igor?"
I'll walk you through my initial thoughts:
How about 100.00 dollars? He nor his family ask for or expect anything. 100.00 dollars is a ton of money for his family and will be very helpful and be very much appreciated. I won't miss it one bit.
How about 370.00 dollars? Now you're talking! A full months pay. That is going to go a long way. Maybe a dishwasher in the house. Not a huge deal for me.
How about 1,000 dollars? I picture his mom crying. His dad thinking about how this will make for a better year. That's allot of money, but I've spent that on dinner with clients.
How about 4,400 dollars? Whooaaaa Boy! Visions of Igor on his dad's shoulders as he dances around the room, Vodka for everyone, Mom cries as she holds the baby(Susha) in one arm and dances with dad. Somehow Igor and I's theme song of the summer is playing loudly in the background "I throw my hands up in the air sometimes, I go hey ohh, everday ohh" A full years pay! My man Igor, the richest boy in town. Almost brings a tear of joy to my own eye thinking about it. Now that would take some serious sacrifices from the Comer's, but I COULD do it.
A little overwhelmed already I ignor the question that has been plaguing me for weeks for a little while longer. The only problem is I'm running out of time. He leaves tomorrow, work is crazy right now, for the money to do him any good I have to go to the bank and get him 20 dollar bills minted in the last 6 years(I imagine the teller will look at me a little funny with that request). I cant ignore it much longer.
My first appointment of the day is over an hour away from my house so I am forced to think about it more on my drive. This time I'm not thinking about specific dollar amounts, but considering much deeper and even more complicated matters. A thousand hours worth of thoughts went through my mind in an hours time. I could write a book, but I'll try to be brief.
Why am I so blessed?
Why is the USA so blessed?
Thank you God for my forefathers, my military, my parents, my employer.
I owe people money, my kids college funds and my 401K are under funded, I want a beach house one day. I've already spent a few thousand on this little punk.
Have I showed him the love of Jesus or just given him stuff?
Why didnt I spend more time focused on what money cant buy, instead of just showing him a good time?
Will the money I give him help show him Jesus love, will it make an eternal impact?
Is the money I can give him really a blessing or will it create problems?
Maybe Igor's "poor" family is in reality happy and closer to God than my "rich" family.
Will his father be insulted?
What about the billions of people all over the world and around the corner in far worse shape than Igor's family?
What am I supposed to do?
I think about these type of things frequently. The question of how much money to send home with Igor brings all of these thoughts to a smiling 75lb reality that I'm putting on a bus tomorrow. They say that whenever you try to touch a life, your own gets touched in a more powerful way. I'm sad to confess that the vast majority of time I become paralyzed with thought on these matters and my actions drag woefully behind. I dont give enough; I never have. I can say with almost 100% certainty that if(when) UGA beats Florida this year I'll buy a side order of bacon for everyone in the Chart House across from the Jacksonville landing. Why will it be so easy to buy bacon for strangers after a football game, but giving to this boy is such a difficult decision for me to make? Conviction.
It's a messed up crazy world. Life is hard and I'm a lucky one. Like I said it was a mentally draining day. I've got some money. I'll give some to Igor. I hope I gave him more than that.
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Monday, June 6, 2011
Here the Bell?
I was fortunate enough to have the opportunity to work at a paper mill during summer breaks as a college student. My father was and is an employee of a mill in Savannah, GA, and at that time the economy was so strong, they needed all the help they could get. I could have worked a double(a 16 hour shift) everyday if it wasn't for old buddies and the beach. I made more money than my friends at the smoothie shop and I feel like I learned a great deal about industry.
On my very first day, I learned lessons that have stayed with me for the last 18 years. It has to do with a ringing bell that crossed my mind today, so I thought I would write about it.
I put on my first hard hat and pair of steel toe boots and walked through the mill towards my training room. Everything I passed was huge, hot, dangerous, powerful, intimidating, and unforgiving. The manufacturing equipment required to produce paper at scale will not be interrupted by a human limb, and the majority of life that is lost in the large scale manufacturing process is very quick and painless.
I finally made my way to the middle of the mill and I sat in that training room, nearly trembling, with a fellow rookie(Andre 6' 2" 225 MLB Georgia Southern) waiting to begin my first day on a job in a place that didn't have a food court. My foreman walked in, and began to speak. I didn't hear a word that came out of his mouth. I couldn't tell you what he was supposed to be teaching me. I was scared to death to be in this environment in the first place, and in addition to that there was a bell that was sounding off like an alarm in the back ground that consumed my every thought and instinct. A loud ringing bell. This bell sounded like every fire drill or movie special effect I had ever heard. Something bad was happening. As the foreman continued to move his mouth and speak in Charlie Brown's parents language, the sound of the bell grew unbearable in my ears. I looked over over at Andre and could tell that he was just as scared, if not more than I was. Andre didn't seem to be the type of guy to scare easy. I didn't want to interrupt my foreman this early into my first day on the job, but 30 seconds into his talk, I stopped him cold. "What is that bell?"!!!!!! "Do we need to run?"
What happened next was like a who's on first comedy routine.
Foreman "What bell"
Me "THAT bell, right there!"
Foreman "there's a bell?"
Me "Yeah that bell, that one right there"
Foreman"What are you talking about?"
Andre (scared to death and joining in to help my cause) "THAT BELL"
Foreman"What are you college boys talking about, I don't hear anything?"
Me "Cant you hear that alarm bell?"
Foreman..puzzled look
Now I'm sure that foreman has a hearing problem. Lord knows my dad does. 20 years in a paper mill has that effect. That being said, I can assure you this bell was so loud that he could "hear" the bell. He just couldn't "hear" it. He had no idea what we were talking about. The reason he couldn't hear that bell is because he had been hearing that same bell for 8 to 16 hours a day for the last 25 years of his life. It just didn't mean anything to him anymore. It was a part of his environment, a part of his day. Andre and I were new to an environment where we were surrounded by equipment that could end our lives before we even knew what had happened to us. We heard bells like this during fire alarms, tornado drills, or before explosions in movies. We heard a warning to our impending doom, and the foreman heard nothing. It was a part of his day. How could this man not hear this bell?
So, after boring you with that story, I guess I should come to a conclusion. The fact is, I'm not sure if there is a single conclusion, but the bell is a lesson that has many applications to me. I didn't know I was learning a lesson at the time, but I think about that bell frequently. I realize that not everyone lives in my environment and I have to learn to respect the fears and unknowns of those that are unfamiliar. I realize that bells really do ring for a reason and no matter how many times we hear them, it is dangerous to forget what they are there for. I think of the fact that the three of us were hearing the exact same sound and two of us thought it was the most important sound in our lives, and the other person didn't even know what we were talking about. What bells do I not here everyday? What bells do the people around me hear that I am ignoring or have no meaning to me? Am I continually trying to remind myself of the bells that were once important to me? Do I realize that importance is relevant?
Are you listening to the bell?
On my very first day, I learned lessons that have stayed with me for the last 18 years. It has to do with a ringing bell that crossed my mind today, so I thought I would write about it.
I put on my first hard hat and pair of steel toe boots and walked through the mill towards my training room. Everything I passed was huge, hot, dangerous, powerful, intimidating, and unforgiving. The manufacturing equipment required to produce paper at scale will not be interrupted by a human limb, and the majority of life that is lost in the large scale manufacturing process is very quick and painless.
I finally made my way to the middle of the mill and I sat in that training room, nearly trembling, with a fellow rookie(Andre 6' 2" 225 MLB Georgia Southern) waiting to begin my first day on a job in a place that didn't have a food court. My foreman walked in, and began to speak. I didn't hear a word that came out of his mouth. I couldn't tell you what he was supposed to be teaching me. I was scared to death to be in this environment in the first place, and in addition to that there was a bell that was sounding off like an alarm in the back ground that consumed my every thought and instinct. A loud ringing bell. This bell sounded like every fire drill or movie special effect I had ever heard. Something bad was happening. As the foreman continued to move his mouth and speak in Charlie Brown's parents language, the sound of the bell grew unbearable in my ears. I looked over over at Andre and could tell that he was just as scared, if not more than I was. Andre didn't seem to be the type of guy to scare easy. I didn't want to interrupt my foreman this early into my first day on the job, but 30 seconds into his talk, I stopped him cold. "What is that bell?"!!!!!! "Do we need to run?"
What happened next was like a who's on first comedy routine.
Foreman "What bell"
Me "THAT bell, right there!"
Foreman "there's a bell?"
Me "Yeah that bell, that one right there"
Foreman"What are you talking about?"
Andre (scared to death and joining in to help my cause) "THAT BELL"
Foreman"What are you college boys talking about, I don't hear anything?"
Me "Cant you hear that alarm bell?"
Foreman..puzzled look
Now I'm sure that foreman has a hearing problem. Lord knows my dad does. 20 years in a paper mill has that effect. That being said, I can assure you this bell was so loud that he could "hear" the bell. He just couldn't "hear" it. He had no idea what we were talking about. The reason he couldn't hear that bell is because he had been hearing that same bell for 8 to 16 hours a day for the last 25 years of his life. It just didn't mean anything to him anymore. It was a part of his environment, a part of his day. Andre and I were new to an environment where we were surrounded by equipment that could end our lives before we even knew what had happened to us. We heard bells like this during fire alarms, tornado drills, or before explosions in movies. We heard a warning to our impending doom, and the foreman heard nothing. It was a part of his day. How could this man not hear this bell?
So, after boring you with that story, I guess I should come to a conclusion. The fact is, I'm not sure if there is a single conclusion, but the bell is a lesson that has many applications to me. I didn't know I was learning a lesson at the time, but I think about that bell frequently. I realize that not everyone lives in my environment and I have to learn to respect the fears and unknowns of those that are unfamiliar. I realize that bells really do ring for a reason and no matter how many times we hear them, it is dangerous to forget what they are there for. I think of the fact that the three of us were hearing the exact same sound and two of us thought it was the most important sound in our lives, and the other person didn't even know what we were talking about. What bells do I not here everyday? What bells do the people around me hear that I am ignoring or have no meaning to me? Am I continually trying to remind myself of the bells that were once important to me? Do I realize that importance is relevant?
Are you listening to the bell?
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