Today, I cleaned up poop.
And I mean human poop.
It wasn't what I had expected for my day, but I found myself in situation where God placed me to serve. And so I answered. ... Albeit with a "Is-this-really-happening?" kind of smile on my face.
The story is ...
I am a "Big" in the Big Brothers Big Sisters program. I have been matched with my current "Little" for the past two years. I visit him during his lunch and recess time at school on Fridays. And that is where the story begins.
I happened to arrive at the school about 10 minutes early, and I thought it was a good time to sneak in a bathroom break. I had been running all morning and I knew that I'd have to go during our time together if I didn't go before. So I headed to the latrine.
And as I was headed there, there was a little man that came buzzing around the corner from the school cafeteria and made a beeline to the bathroom ahead of me.
He was just a little guy, maybe first grader at the oldest. And he was also tiny in size. I'm not exaggerating when I say that the top of his head was not much higher than my knees. ... And judging by his size, I guessed their were some developmental challenges.
As he cruised into the bathroom before, I heard him chanting to himself: "I can make. I can make it. ... I CAN MAKE IT!"
And a smile broke over my face.
Once in the bathroom, I proceeded to my own station, but I could hear the little man keeping up a running dialogue with himself.
"I can make it. I can ... make ... it. ... Oh no, I'm not going to make it. I'm not going to make it! ... I can't reach. I can't reach! ... Ahhh. Oh no. Oh no. OH NO!!!!"
The longer I was in the bathroom, the more pronounced this young man's agony was becoming, and by the time that I was washing my hands, this poor boy was in distress. He was crying and yelling for a teacher to come help him. ... My heart broke for him.
Weighing my options, I noted that there wasn't likely a teacher that would be in hearing distance any time soon. This particular bathroom is located by the gym and the hallway to the lunchroom, and quite frankly is empty much of the time.
I thought, "Well, I could go to the office and explain the situation, but that means this poor kid is going to be stuck in here screaming and crying for who knows how long."
So, I did the only thing I could do. I went to the stall, knocked on the open door and peaked in.
There on the toilet was a boy whom was in one of the school's "title" programs as you can identify them because of their name badges. He was sobbing, tears and slobber running down his face. But he couldn't do anything about it because his tiny hands were locked on the edge of the toilet seat, just trying hold himself on the toilet because his feet dangled a good 12 inches off the ground.
"Teacher!!! ... Help me!!!" he pleaded.
"Alright, bud," I said. "What's happening."
"I'm stuck! I'm stuck! ... I can't move! I can't move! ... Poop! Poop!"
Well, I moved in to take a look, and in an instant I pieced together what had happened.
The young man had obviously had to go to the bathroom extremely bad and had bolted for the bathroom before getting in line for lunch. But, once he made it to the bathroom, he realized that the stool was built for older kids and so in the process of trying to quickly get his pants down and pull himself up onto the stool, his poop had dribbled down his backside.
He had tried his best to clean himself up. But he could barely reach the toilet paper, and once he had gotten a hold of some, the act of balancing himself with one hand while trying to wipe with the other was too much. He knew he was going to fall off if he tried it again. ... And so there he sat, holding on for dear life, poop caked up and down his backside, the toilet and down into his shorts and pants.
I could see why he was so distraught. ... Who wouldn't be in that situation?
So, I did the only thing I could. I calmed him down and began to clean him up. First, I clean him up enough so that I could lift him off the toilet, and then I cleaned up the toilet, and last I finished with where the poop had found its way, including cleaning up his pants and shorts as best I could.
The young man was so grateful, and when he had calmed down enough, he started to cheer up. ... After a few more minutes of wiping tears and collecting ourselves, he cheerily looked up and asked, "Can you take me to the lunchroom? I haven't had lunch, and I'm going to miss lunch."
"Sure," I said, "But let's get our hands washed up, and so we proceeded to have an impromptu hand-washing lesson to boot.
As we walked out of the bathroom, the young man grabbed my hand and we walked to the lunchroom. And once I explained the situation to the lunch lady they made accommodations for the young man, and he was ushered into the lunch line.
I have been working hard in my life in recent weeks to tear down the wall between my pastoral call, my public persona and my work life. I've tried to begin to just live into my call wherever and whenever it beckons me, whether be in my professional media job, my pastoral internship, at school or in my family life. ... And I have to tell you, it's led me to some strange places. ... Like today ... when I cleaned up poop for a very scared and frightened young man.
Lord, I get it now. ... You really do mean anywhere, anyhow, anytime. There is no break from being called in Christ's name. ... And that is why today, I am finding faith in being called everywhere, all the time. ... Amen.
But really? ... Did I need this lesson? LOL!
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