This afternoon I stopped by a store to pick up some sodas for our incarcerated father’s class. I grabbed and carried them to the cashier station. I waited on the woman in front of me and when she was finished stepped up and watched the cashier scan the drinks and stick them in plastic bags. When it was time, I scanned my card and then entered my pin number. However, as soon as I punched the digits in I knew it was the wrong pin. I told the cashier and she reset the scanner. For a moment I couldn’t separate all the pins and passwords in my life and choose the correct one but finally settled on the right one. It worked and I walked out with my purchase.
As I drove to the jail I thought about the men in my class who were receiving their certificates of completion tonight. I thought about the different men in the program and how each of them has certain “codes” which work for them. For one humor might be the key, another is not being singled out in class but letting him join the conversation when he’s ready. Our goal at the jail is to give the men a collection of tools and skills which will keep them clean, responsible, have abilities that many people on the outside take for granted. However, getting them to participate and accept the knowledge is tricky. Not any one approach works with all. We must take the time, learning about the men, connecting with them, understanding the way they think so we can “break the code” that will help them make life changing choices.
A little bundle of unexpectedness just rode out of our driveway.
This past Saturday Beth and I discovered a kitten hanging out near our house. Knowing the dogs in the surrounding area, including our own Siberian Husky, wouldn’t treat it well, we gave it a safe place, some food and began looking for someone to adopt it. Thankfully, a nice woman, who was looking for some companionship, came this afternoon and took it to a new home where it should live a long, good life.
It is amazing how one small thing can wreak big havoc in our lives. Because it was staying on our front porch we had to start taking Trooper, the Husky, out the back door, not his usual routine. We bought kitten food, prepared and fed the little one three times a day. When one of us left for work the other had to hold the kitten because it followed whoever was walking, wherever we went. Whoever was the last one leaving the house had to sneak to their vehicle because the kitten would come running if it heard them. As the kitten rode off today Beth and I both breathed a sigh of relief while also feeling a tinge of sadness.
Life is not predictable. We’re never sure when someone or something will join us our journey and remind us not to take “normal” for granted.