Vengeance Is Mine! Yes!! No?

Each year every person in our organization is evaluated for the possibility of being given a performance bonus. The bonuses range from a few dollars to a few thousand dollars, depending upon the points given by the supervisor. There is a limited number of points spread throughout any unit within the organization, so obviously the competition is fierce. Sometimes I wish we did not have annual bonuses because in many cases employees are dissatisfied with the bonus, wanting to have had more money rather than being grateful for getting any at all. The bonuses, in my opinion, build a climate of avarice, fortunately in my division for only a few weeks. Is this a case of money being a root of evil? I misspeak. The bonuses are needed and welcome, especially for the lower-paid employees.

Normally, the only stress in the system for us senior managers is the junior managers' lament about limited points for some of their high-performing units. There is an average number of points (i.e. average bonus) granted for each employee. Immediate supervisors then have to shift the points, giving more (higher bonuses) to higher-performing employees, the granted amount to average employees, and a lower number (lower bonus) to employees whose performance is lacking in some way. It is a difficult balance to achieve, but we all try honestly to achieve it.

Or so I thought until a couple of days ago. A junior manager rushed into my office, incensed. It turns out that the Human Relations office, HR, had put one of his employees on the list for another unit. To be fair to HR, our employee had been loaned to that unit for a few months, but he had long ago returned to us. So, that was an HR error. While it would seem to be an easy error to fix, without going into details about how our cumbersome personnel system with its rules and regulations works, at that point in the process, it was nearly impossible to fix without causing the HR staff a lot of embarrassment and an incredible amount of paperwork, including reconvening at least two pay panels, inconveniencing at least a dozen people for about as many hours. The HR director's response to my plea for equitable treatment for all was that the process is not perfect and it is working pretty good actually if only a few people get less than they might deserve.

Now, being on the wrong list would not really have been a problem had the immediate supervisor of the unit to which my employee had been assigned played fair. She had only two employees, and she could have given an equal number of points to both since both had performed equally well. In fact, she had written my employee's supervisor on several occasions about how wonderful this employee was and twice asked to keep him longer. So, one would think that she would give him a good bonus, but no. She took away as many points as allowed from him and gave them to the remaining (her) employee, creating a 2-1 difference in bonus for equal work.

I was furious. I complained to HR. HR would not budge on the matter of who got to make the decision on the points. I finally complained to the local head of our organization, my immediate supervisor, and he weighed in on my side. (He also made an interesting comment about the horrible little manager of the other unit: "She did what any supervisor would have done: grabbed as much as she could for her unit without regard for the larger organization. You don't treat people that way, but most supervisors do.") He directed the HR office to move my employee to our list.

HR still did not budge. I offered to provide additional points from my division since I had saved points for this particular employee. I even began exploring how I might pass on any points that would be given to me personally even though I really wanted/needed my bonus to help meet my pledge to St. Francis Retreat; certainly, though, if my money would go to help someone, then God would help me find more elsewhere for my pledge as He has done ever since I made it. Neither brilliant idea worked: HR insisted that points could not be transferred across divisions.

My prayers for a deus ex machina way out of the situation and especially for serenity and the ability to love someone I really just wanted to kill went unanswered. Actually, I was so occupied with wielding my wrathful sword of righteous indignation as I rushed into the fray that I suspect I might have blindly brushed aside any gift of peace held out toward me. The object of my attack was the unit supervisor in the other division. A level of selfishness that deliberately hurts another being, especially one who has helped you, lies beyond my capacity to understand. I had one thought only: "Off with her head!"

And then it seemed like perhaps a prayer had been answered. I was called to my supervisor's office, together with a couple peers, to decide how to divide up the bonus money for the 200 or so supervisors in our organization. Eureka! My little selfish opponent was on the list! I could do to her what she had done to my employee. Yes! Oh, yes! I was ready for the kill! Vengeance is so sweet! And it had been placed into my hands so easily!

Or had it? The brief sweet taste of payback slid across my tongue at the same time that a repetitive refrain started ringing through my head along the lines of "'vengeance is mine,' saith the Lord." Darn! I really wanted it to be mine!

Yowie! What had I been about to do? Something that Romans 12:19, citing Deuteronomy 32:35, warns against? I have since checked. The Bible is full of references to vengeance but always, from what I have seen, in reference to God's vengeance, not man's against man.

At least, I listen eventually -- usually! So, I had to be fair to her, but how? I really couldn't in my emotional state. So, I recused myself from the decision and explained why to my two counterparts, telling them that I considered her unethical and uncollegial, using a few other choice words that one grants oneself the liberty to use when among friends. Obviously, given that negative view of someone whom I had never met except through a couple of e-notes, I would be poorly equipped to make an objective decision, I confided in my counterparts.

"I am going to recuse myself, too," one of them told me. "I am dating her." Ouch! Clearly, I continue to suffer from foot-in-mouth disease.

So, the horrible manager's bonus was decided by our remaining counterpart. This is, obviously, as it should have been.

I had really wanted the chance to settle the score, to let her feel what it is like to get an unfairly low bonus. I had wanted to be the arbiter of ethics. And then an incredible opportunity had presented itself, but somehow I didn't think that this opportunity had come from God.

I am so glad that I had removed myself from making a decision while under the influence of negative emotions. Yesterday, this little horror of a manager called me and, while unwilling to split the bonus between our employee and hers, offered to scratch our employee off the list she had received from HR. I then could write him into our list for the amount I wanted him to have. I don't know whether or not her moral courage was prompted by her boyfriend. The source does not matter. Rather, her willingness to risk getting into trouble for the benefit of an employee made her an instant ally. We did as she suggested, and HR is going to have to deal with it.

Now I will pray a more appropriate prayer -- for a change of heart in our HR director! Or at least for him to have a heart! (And perhaps for a change in heart in me, too. Where did that to-the-death desire for vengeance come from?)

7 Quick Takes Friday #10

Time again already to contribute to the 7 Quick Takes Friday meme hosted by Jennifer at Conversion Diary! This time, I will not do a day-by-day review since the days were so full as to blur one into another in retrospect. So, instead, I will share the seven events that I best remember.

(1) Early in the flip between last week and this one, one of the most senior people from headquarters appeared in town without much notice. After an all-day meeting, he left behind a staggering new budget to manage and an overwhelming amount of work, including the need to set up three new branches next month and several more worldwide later in the year and to hire about 100 new people immediately and more later in the year. My head is still spinning; so are the heads of the senior managers to whom I will delegate much of this work. One is currently on Christmas break in Germany; he says he is glad he made it there before all this came down on us. Not to fear -- he will get to share our stress when he returns; we will be sure to save a fair amount for him!

(2) Nathaniel's birthday is Christmas day (December 25). Back in 2001, he was quite a Christmas present! To avoid dividing attention between the two events, Shane and Lemony celebrate his birthday earlier in the month, and he gets to choose the location. This year, we celebrated Nathaniel's birthday this past Saturday, and Nathaniel chose Sapporo Restaurant. He loves sushi and delights in the hibachi cooking.

(3) Sunday was such a restful day, and I needed it! Fr. Kevin, priest at a parish 45 miles north of where I live, teaches contemplative prayer "for busy people" once a month. His deep spirituality and talent at teaching has helped me understand much about my contemplative experiences. We use Ursula King's helpful book, Christian Mystics, but Fr. Kevin's ability to distill essential information from throughout the ages is even more helpful.

(4) Another priest cusped my horizon this week. Fr. Terry called me to thank me for some Russian chocolates I dropped off for him for Christmas and mentioned that he would be leaving the St. Francis Retreat Center in January for a parish about three hours away. Having a big mouth, I spread the word to our prayer group, and, devastated to think that Fr. Terry, who has been a de facto spiritual advisor to many of us and who was instrumental in the establishment of our group a few years ago, would not be in our immediate environs for long, we planned a potluck at my house for him next week. As it turned out, I had misunderstood. (I need to practice speaking English more often.) Fr. Terry was only going to the central-state parish on an interim basis, to fill behind an ill priest. So, now we are all happy -- and we are going to have the potluck, anyway, because we will latch onto any opportunity to let Fr. Terry know we love him!

(5) Our prayer group meeting was curtailed by our parish's penitence service that began a half-hour later that same evening. So, we went to confession as a group. Fr. E had brought in several local priests, including two who speak multiple languages, a necessity in our community. I patiently waited my turn to confess to either Fr. E. or Fr. Terry, when they suddenly walked out, there being more priests than were needed. That left me with a choice of three priests whom I knew only on a hello-goodbye basis, with no idea of what kind of confessors they were. The first one who had an empty chair was Fr. M., our Latin priest. I approached with some trepidation because I barely know him at all but knew him to be traditional and strict. He generally prefers to use the screen, and it was set up in his corner of the church. However, he did not require that of me. (I am not a confessional/screen type.) In fact, he was so gentle and kind that I immediately felt comfortable with him -- and I saw him in a new light. I am so glad that I went and that I had the opportunity to confess to Fr. M.

(6) One evening this week we ran out to a Kohl's store in the nearest large town. We needed some mattress straps. Finding them seemed to be an easy enough task. However, we could find no sales person who spoke English, and I did not know the name of the item we wanted in Spanish. Donnie quickly became frustrated, commenting that this was America, so where were the English speakers?! I lamented the limits of my Spanish! (We are two very different people.) As we walked toward the exit, having given up, we passed a Mexican friend with excellent English. (How does that sort of thing happen just about every time I need it??) My friend told us the name of the item, and that ended that problem. However, along with improving my English, I think I need to improve my Spanish!

(7) Today, when I arrived home, I found a surprise: flowers. Now safely ensconced on a table in Donnie's office where Intrepid, our herbivore cat, cannot eat them, they had been sent from a professor in Michigan, whom I mentored through her dissertation-writing years. She just began a new position this year as an assistant professor, and she wanted to thank me for my support that she attributed to landing her current job. She would have gotten it without my help and with her talent, but expressions of gratitude are always pleasant.

And now, may you find your weekend strewn with flowers!

What Is Better Than Money? Merry Christmas!

We cannot put up a Christmas tree (real or artificial) because one of our cats, Intrepid, eats all kinds of plants and nearly died once from ingesting a lot of plastic branches. (Thanks to a concerned vet who rushed to our house, he is a wonderfully fine herbivore today.) We can, though, note Christmas in many other ways with decorations outdoors, Christmas cookery, finding fun gifts for colleagues, and shopping for the kids and the grandkids.

Ah, shopping for the kids! That is a relatively new and wonderfully pleasant experience. When they were growing up, we never had money for shopping for them. Medical expenses for Doah and Noelle always robbed us of that particular pleasure, and visiting them in the hospital -- Noelle was there Christmas day for a number of years in a row -- meant little time for shopping of any kind had we had any money to engage in that popular activity.

Nonetheless, we have many pleasant memories from Christmases past. For example, one year we had moved into a new place with a fireplace. Donnie had built a warm fire on a cold Virginia night, and we sat together, enjoying the evening while the kids were sleeping. Five-year-old Doah, however, woke up and crept downstairs. Seeing the fire, he began crying loudly.

"What's the matter, Doah?" we asked.

"Ho-ho burn butt!" he sobbed.

For the sake of Santa Claus's posterior, we put out the fire. Doah went off to bed quite happily, satisfied that he had finished his task of ensuring a safe entrance for the deliverer of gifts.

Then there was the year that we had no money at all. Christmas celebrations of the traditional variety were seriously out of the question, especially since we were moving at the end of December. The day after Christmas, as we were taking our first load of household goods to our new residence, we happened to drive past a Christmas tree lot and noticed that the lot had been abandoned. In the back of the lot was a lone, sickly-looking, leftover Christmas tree. Lizzie and Shane jumped out of the car and delightedly dragged it over to Donnie, who lashed it to the roof. Off we went, pleased with our acquisition, although we got strange stares from passing cars. We later decorated our puny little tree with our traditional ornaments, turning it into a festively proud fir. Homemade gifts in the form of food items were the theme of that year. We decorated the tree with cookies, fudge, and other favorite items of the kids that they removed and ate New Year's morning, the day we had decided would be "Christmas" that year.

Other examples of special Christmas events abound. I will share some of them:

(1) Our introduction to Christmas with kids came when Lizzie, our oldest and at barely two years old too young to know anything about Christmas yet -- or so we assumed -- stood in her pajamas at the window as dark settled around our apartment on Christmas eve and suddenly announced, "Santa Claus is coming tonight!" Oh, no! There were no plans for Santa to come that night! Donnie dashed to the car. It was nearly 9:00. The only store still open was a Five-and-Dime, and all Donnie could find in it were little socks for Lizzie's doll. It was enough to make her happy, and from that day we began the practice of one present per child for Christmas.

(2) We tried to make the one gift something very special, but we could never predict our children's strange requests. For example, Lizzie at the age of eight, a precocious fourth grader (she had skipped second grade), asked for a college textbook on genetics. Her interest came from attending the university Russian courses I taught on those days when she had no school and spending the hour in my intermediate Russian course solving problems passed along to her by one of my students who was majoring in genetics. (He also proudly dragged her to the honors program director, who invited her to attend some lecture-form university courses, where she promptly fell asleep. Nonetheless, the director offered to "enroll" her in the honors program as an aspiring college student, but doing so became too complicated. She had to wait another four years before taking her first college course for credit.) When Lizzie, who did become a genetics major for about three years before changing her major to cognitive neuroscience, received her Santa-delivered genetics textbook, she ecstatically raced from house to house in our small neighborhood to display her treasure, then returned home, plopped down beside me on the sofa, and mourned, "None of my friends like my gift! They think it's dumb."

"Well," I asked her, "What do you think? Are you happy with the book?"

"Yes. It's exactly what I wanted, and I really like all the problems at the end of the chapters."

"What did your friends get?"

"They got dolls. That's dumb!" I don't remember Lizzie ever playing with dolls other than the one that needed socks when she was little, a soft pink lamb that my grandmother gave her as a toddler and that she has to this day, and a monkey that my grandmother made for her out of a sock that she eventually wore out.

(3) One year, no one had been in the hospital all year, and we had money for Christmas! It was enough to buy bikes for Shane and Lizzie, pre-teen and teen at the time. Donnie and I were as excited as children to be able to get those bikes for our kids. (Noelle, who is paraplegic, and Doah, who is mentally retarded, never were able to ride a bike, but they got gifts that they had asked for.) That year, Shane and Lizzie had made no particular gift request, and we played a very cruel trick on them. We hung only the bike-lock keys on the tree and hid the bikes behind the house. The keys blended into the ornaments, and after the other gifts had been given out, Shane and Lizzie had nothing. In true Shane and Lizzie fashion, they looked around the tree one more time and said nothing.

"Did all the gifts get passed out?" I asked innocently.

"It seems so," said Lizzie. "Shane and I don't have anything, but that's okay. We don't really need anything. We didn't ask for anything this year."

"Really?" I asked. "Are you sure there is nothing else?" Donnie pulled one of the keys off the tree and handed it to them.

"Oh, oh, oh!" Shane exclaimed, "We have a bike!" Clearly, he assumed that Lizzie and he would be sharing.

"Go look out behind the house," Donnie suggested, and they took off running. We regretted not taking a camera with us when we saw the look on their faces when they caught sight of TWO bikes! They were extraordinarily understanding kids. They knew what it had taken for us to gather the money for two bikes, and they were grateful to us every time they rode them. That was a special Christmas. Donnie got a bike the following Christmas, and for years the three of them would ride together on Saturdays while I spent the day with Noelle and Doah.

The most special Christmas, though, was not one when we had money for gifts but one when we did not. It came two years after the bike Christmas. That year, multiple surgeries drained our coffers dry. Fortunately, we had an artificial Christmas tree with which a relative had gifted us a few years earlier, so we put up the tree and decorated it. Christmas eve ultimately came, and we knew we had nothing for the children. Donnie and I contemplated another year of cookies and fudge, but before Donnie got down to cooking (something he had to do alone -- I am such a bad cook, I would have wasted the ingredients in preparing inedible foodstuffs), one of us -- I don't remember which -- had a scathingly brilliant idea, to quote Hayley Mills' character in The Trouble with Angels. Donnie had by then begun working as a computer graphist, and we conceived of making coupons for each of the kids for one-on-one activities with Mom or Dad: a snack at McDonald's, a special lesson in one of our specialties, private walks, an activity that the child would choose, and so on. Each child received a book of twelve coupons that could be redeemed at will during the year. They loved them, and they used every one of those coupons! That year remains our favorite. In spite of our annually increasingly brighter financial status, no year matched that one for that year Christmas lasted not one day but twelve months.

The end: As I was writing this post, nostalgia made me turn to Donnie and start reminiscing about that very special Christmas. We want to repeat it. So, we have just decided to give our children and grandkids coupons for future joint activities this year. As for the money we had set aside for gifts, we are now excitedly planning how to get rid of it and have scads of ideas about where to distribute it. I will add a PS later, once we have decided where it will go.

Oh, this year is going to be such a great Christmas!

Monday Morning Meditation #20: Be Not Afraid of Intimacy with God

Continuing through the book of Deuteronomy, I was stopped -- I cannot say that the action was reflexive: I did not stop myself -- and while I could not figure out what I could possibly write for a MMM on the verse, somehow I could not get past the 21st verse of chapter 7: "Thou shalt not be affrighted at them; for the LORD thy God is in the midst of thee, a God great and awful." The verse referred to God's tasking of the Israelites to take on the tribes living in the Promised Land, and I assume the translation of the original Hebrew word as "awful" might be better translated today as "awesome."

Reading: Deuteronomy 7:21

Meditation: For the life of me, at midnight, which is when I usually write the MMM, I could not figure out what the significance of this verse was. I thought about all the times I have championed a minority group or an individual in trouble. "Lord, are you stopping me because there is something important to say about moral courage, about the willingness to take on the tasks that you give, no matter how large, unpopular, or frightening they appear to be?" I asked. That seemed liked a good theme to me, one completely related to what was being asked of the Israelites and one that reflected their seeming state of mind. But no, whenever I started thinking in that direction, I encountered a mental block. So, I asked God to enlighten me while I slept, slipped into contemplative prayer briefly, and then slipped into a deep sleep. (That happens to me often during contemplative prayer, and I just hope that God will take me in whatever way He can get me -- conscious or unconscious!)

When the alarm woke me up this morning, my brain was every bit as addled as the night before although my body was quite rested. I fed the cats while Donnie slept, and then settled into the Jesus prayer that I sometimes use for contemplation, especially in the morning. For me, this prayer is less an action and more a way of being together with God. Usually, very quickly my concentration on words disappears (as do the words themselves), and I find myself in a state of contemplation that is difficult to describe in words.

As happens far too often, as the moment of pure intimacy with God slipped over me, I pulled back, and I instantly realized that this is what the verse I could not get past was saying to me. It had nothing to do with the literal meaning of encouraging the Israelites to be brave, given the presence of God among them. Likewise, it had nothing to do with what I first thought about having moral courage to speak up and take on battles today that challenge unethical, unkind, and immoral situations we find in our lives, given that God will be with us during the battle. That which seemed to make sense is not what was stopping me at that verse but rather a different kind of fear that sometimes creeps into my life: the fear of losing control of my conscious self through greater intimacy with God.

I could guess at the psychological reasons behind my withdrawal from God at the moments of greatest intimacy, and I might actually be right. I wonder how other adults who were physically and sexually abused as children accept spiritual intimacy? When I do fully accept it, I usually find later that I have had tears running down my face. So, I now understand that verse in Deuteronomy not as literal or even parallel to similar situations today, but as allegorical, educating me, in this case, about my own reaction to those times when I am very aware that a "great and awful [awesome] God" is "in my midst." As much as I trust God to take care of my life -- I truly do for He always has -- I sometimes (too often, given all God's kindness to me) throw up a protective barrier when He approaches very, very close. I hope that this interpretation (or allegorical application) of today's verse was meant to be as instructive to others as it was to me, for certainly I have been led to a non-literal understanding, but an important one for me: God in our midst should not frighten us, but encourage us; we should welcome, not reject, God's desire to be in our lives and of our lives.

And that is far as I can go with you on this Monday morning. I must retire to prayer to repent for all those times that I have pulled back, to thank God for patience in continuing to bless me with His presence in spite of my reticence sometimes in fully accepting it, especially physically, to give praise for His incredible desire and willingness to be with me/us, no matter how insignificant or even sinful we are (the penitence service tonight will help), and to request God to give me greater trust when it comes to intimacy with Him.

After that, I will again spend some time in contemplation (briefly for I am now working on being late for work, but often in such cases where I have to cut contemplation short, I end up in a contemplative state from time to time throughout the working day, and that, for certain, is not bad).

I will now leave you to your prayer and contemplation, but first, I would like to bring to your attention a Monday morning prayer post that you might enjoy:

Fr. Austin Fleming, priest of the Archdiocese of Boston and pastor in Concord, Massachusetts, posts a prayer each Monday morning that he calls "Monday Morning Offering." I enjoy his prayers very much. I hope you also will find them inspirational. He has graciously given me permission to include a link to his blog on my Monday Morning Meditation posts.

For additional inspiration throughout the week, I would point out two sets of blogs: (1) the list of devotional blogs that follow the enumeration of Monday Morning Meditations on the sidebar of this blog and (2) my blogroll, where I am following a number of inspirational priests and writers about spiritual matters. I learn so very much from all these people. I highly recommend them to you.

Have a good day and a good week, remembering that God is with us always -- and that should bring us not fear but great joy!

Sabbath Sunday #4: The Extra Manager at Today's Meeting

Fr. Christian Mathis (Blessed Is the Kingdom) has made the suggestion that we "rest" on the Sabbath by taking a break from our normal blogging and sharing an older post of which we are particularly fond. Rest? Gladly! I don't get to do that very often!

The older post was titled "The Extra Manager at Today's Meeting." I am copying it here for ease in reading. The reason I chose this post is because the employee involved will retire on Thursday; we had his retirement party on Friday.

The Extra Manager at Today's Meeting

We are reading 1 Samuel in our Bible Studies class through an interdenominational scripture class published by SEEK. Tonight, we discussed chapter 23, in which David twice seeks the counsel of the Lord. One of the personalizing questions posed in the SEEK study materials is "When was the last occasion that you went before the Lord with a decision that needed to be made? Did you have a sense that God did lead and guide you?" (For me, that would be, ah, like, every day, given the life complications that I routinely run up against.)

The question immediately brought to mind the first meeting I had had this morning. Without revealing confidential information, I can share that two senior managers and I, their supervisor, had been called by our Equal Employment Opportunity (EEO) office to a pre-mediation discussion with our organization's attorney and Human Resource director about an age discrimination complaint that had been filed by an employee from one of our branch offices who had been fired for absenteeism and poor performance by his first-line supervisor, Shirley. Prior to this meeting, I had, as usual with such meetings, asked God for guidance. (I don't like to play with people's lives without that kind of assistance.)

Once assembled, we introduced ourselves and our roles since our organization is quite large and not everyone knew everyone. The role of most of the members of the assembled group was clear. Roger was Shirley's supervisor, and I was Roger's supervisor. However, why Marvin had been called in was a puzzle to everyone, including to the EEO specialist who had set up the meeting and sent out the meeting invitations. Marvin, like Roger, was a senior manager, but he was not in Shirley's chain of command. We all agreed that it looked like an accident that Marvin was there, but he might as well stay because he had ridden there with Roger and me and would be stranded until we were ready to leave, anyway.

It appeared that Shirley had done an adequate enough job of counseling the employee and had some documentation to back up the firing. Curiously, the employee had only asked for reinstatement for six months as a redress for discrimination. I moved the discussion away from whether or not we could give a non-discriminatory reason for the firing (we could) and whether or not we could back that up with documentation (we could) to why the employee would only ask for a 6-month reinstatement. Well, it turned out that this was the amount of time he needs to be in the organization in order to qualify for retirement -- and, having started with us pretty late in life, he is already of retirement age. Based on this information, I ventured that we not look at this complaint as one in which we could justify whether we had done things right (all the correct documentation, following the rule book) but rather as one in which we could justify whether we had done the right thing (the humane approach to a person's life). Doing the right thing rather than always doing things right, a leadership concept introduced by Warren Bennis in his book, On Becoming a Leader, is an approach that I vigorously advocate for all the supervisors within my division.

Now, the problem with doing the right thing -- retaining the employee long enough for him to be able to retire (Where else, at an advanced age, would he be able to start the whole process all over again so that he would enough time to earn a pension?) -- is that continuing to work for his current first-line supervisor would be very problematic and probably impossible for a number of reasons that I cannot share. Hmm...Just as it started to seem that there would be no choice except to support the first-line supervisor's decision to cut the cord in advance of retirement and the lawyer and HR officer began moving in that direction, I looked at Marvin and got a "scathingly brilliant idea" as Hayley Mills in the lead role of Mary in the movie, The Trouble with Angels, was wont to say. Marvin is the senior manager of our Internet products, one for which the employee could work from his current branch office location on a flexi-place, short-term basis. Marvin acknowledged that he could probably find six months of work on a special project for the employee and stated that he would be willing to take him on. Voila! A chance to the right thing!

"Now I think we all know why you were called to this meeting!" I told Marvin.

Oh, yes, to answer the question from tonight's Bible Study class, I did indeed get a sense that God did lead and guide me today!

Friends Are God's Way of Taking Care of Us

A friend sent me the following story. It is too good not to share even though neither of us knows the source other than that it is reputed to have been written by a Denver hospice physician. (The quote in the title is by Eeichido Oda, author of One Piece, in which Monkey D. Luffi, the protoganist, makes this comment about friends.)

Here is the physician's story:

"I was driving home from a meeting this evening about 5, stuck in traffic on Colorado Blvd., and the car started to choke and splutter and die - I barely managed to coast, cursing, into a gas station, glad only that I would not be blocking traffic and would have a somewhat warm spot to wait for the tow truck. It wouldn't even turn over. Before I could make the call, I saw a woman walking out of the quickie mart building, and it looked like she slipped on some ice and fell into a gas pump, so I got out to see if she was okay.

When I got there, it looked more like she had been overcome by sobs than that she had fallen; she was a young woman who looked really haggard with dark circles under her eyes. She dropped something as I helped her up, and I picked it up to give it to her. It was a nickel.

At that moment, everything came into focus for me: the crying woman, the ancient Suburban crammed full of stuff with 3 kids in the back (1 in a car seat), and the gas pump reading $4.95.

I asked her if she was okay and if she needed help, and she just kept saying 'I don't want my kids to see me crying! ,' so we stood on the other side of the pump from her car. She said she was driving to California and that things were very hard for her right now. So I asked, 'And you were praying?' That made her back away from me a little, but I assured her I was not a crazy person and said, 'He heard you, and He sent me.'

I took out my card and swiped it through the card reader on the pump so she could fill up her car completely, and while it was fueling, walked to the next door McDonald's and bought 2 big bags of food, some gift certificates for more, and a big cup of coffee. She gave the food to the kids in the car, who attacked it like wolves, and we stood by the pump eating fries and talking a little.

She told me her name, and that she lived in Kansas City . Her boyfriend left 2 months ago and she had not been able to make ends meet. She knew she wouldn't have money to pay rent Jan. 1, and finally, in desperation, had called her parents, with whom she had not spoken in about 5 years. They lived in California and said she could come live with them and try to get on her feet there.

So she packed up everything she owned in the car. She told the kids they were going to California for Christmas, but not that they were going to live there.

I gave her my gloves, a little hug and said a quick prayer with her for safety on the road. As I was walking over to my car, she said, 'So, are you like an angel or something?'

This definitely made me cry. I said, 'Sweetie, at this time of year angels are really busy, so sometimes God uses regular people.'

It was so incredible to be a part of someone else's miracle. And of course, you guessed it, when I got in my car it started right away and got me home with no problem. I'll put it in the shop tomorrow to check, but I suspect the mechanic won't find anything wrong.

Sometimes the angels fly close enough to you that you can hear the flutter of their wings."

I know how the writer feels every time God calls upon me to use His credit card.

7 Quick Takes Friday #9

This has been another week of tripping. So much has sped by so fast that I cannot believe that it is time again already to contribute to the 7 Quick Takes Friday meme hosted by Jennifer at Conversion Diary. So, here goes with a quick review of this compellingly full week.

1. I spent Saturday at a conference in Maryland. In contrast to the balmy weather of the first day of the conference on Friday, where I moderated a professional discussion, snow arrived Saturday morning, enthralling participants from warm climes such as Jordan and the Philippines, but nonplussing me because I had hope to get together with Shura, who was in Charlottesville, Virginia, staying with Julie, the nurse with whom he lived there during his various hospitalizations and for a number of years following, had come from Russia for only one week. As the snow deepened and travel advisories popped up, our plans to meet mid-point in Washington DC became at first dubious and then unimplementable. Shura will be back in June, thank God, so Julie, he, and I will meet in California, where a no-snow week can be guaranteed.

2. On Sunday, I attended St. Philip Neri Church in Linthicum. Whether it was the disappointment from missing Shura, unrecognized stress from knowing that I was "supposed" to be at breakfast at 9:00 and the 8:00 mass was the only one therefore I could attend, or the discomfort of waiting a long time in the cold, I was quite impatient with the cab driver when he showed up too late for me to arrive at mass on time and immediately announced that he did not know the Linthicum area and was prepared only to take me to Baltimore. I sent him away dismissively, contacted the hotel front desk, and learned that another cab was in the area. The second cab driver, a pleasant enough person, got me to the church promptly, so I was only a little late, and I made a deal with him to pick me up afterward. I handed him a $20 bill for the $10 fare and told him I would settle the bill with him when he returned. I had some difficulty concentrating during mass because, having finally reached my destination, I realized how rude I had been with the first driver. One of the blogs I read this week (sorry, I don't remember which at this late hour) made the comment that regret is not the same as penitence. Indeed! God is wonderful in such circumstances. I got a chance to make up for my rash behavior, when, on the trip back, the second driver told me he had called the first driver and chewed him out. I admitted that I might have reacted in anger, without trying to work out a solution, that it takes two people to differ. So, hopefully the first driver did not get into trouble. Then, splendidly, I learned that the second driver was in his final week of work and was returning to Haiti to try to help develop some of the infrastructure of that country that was lacking, especially for children. Not only had God given me an opportunity to undo what I had done with the first driver, but He had also provided a second driver whom I could help. Rather than "settling" the bill for the drive to the church, I let him keep the change, and I gave him a second $20 bill for the ride back to the hotel. I am not floating in money, but I was on per diem and could eat one less meal or whatever was needed to balance my own financial accounts. One should not pass up opportunities put before one by God to help another of His children do some good in the world!

3. Monday I was back to work in California. Yes! Home is where my heart is, and being home brought a sense of gratitude and comfort. In spite of a hectic work day that left my desk piled high with documents that needed attention at the end of the stay, I did not stay to complete the work, but rather dashed off to my Monday night prayer group. I assist the spiritual director who leads the group, and he had called to let me know that he was driving in from out of town and might be late, so I would need to start the activities. However, he arrived early, as did I and Sr. M, who helped us get set up. What a pleasant ending to the day: discussion, sharing, bonding, singing (I can usually read sheet music well enough to play nearly any song), and prayer.

4. Tuesday overwhelmed me in many ways. At work, we had representatives and managers arriving from all our branch offices to take part in our annual reverse evaluation, workshops, and meetings. I believe that every single one dropped by my office to give me a hug. (We are a hugging organization.) In the evening, I had to attend a mandatory community leaders' holiday party. That made me miss the mass for Tuesday's holy day of obligation. Goodness, this week I have been rapidly building quite a confession list!

5. Wednesday started inauspiciously. I briefed a visiting Army colonel from San Diego. An easy task, the briefing simply had to be transferred from my computer to the computer in the conference room, since we had updated our organizational briefing recently. No, not an easy task! My computer told me bluntly that I was not authorized to download anything. I called the tech to work on the problem, but for the briefing I had to borrow slides from one of the managers who works for me. Thank goodness, he had them easily accessible. No, nothing thankful about that, either, it turned out. The slides were the wrong ones. Not only were they dated, but they also did not include one entire division. I ended up briefing that from memory, using markers and the easel that was in the room. Fortunately, the colonel wanted company for lunch, and the easy conversation that flowed from that not only made her 30 minutes late for her next appointment but also built rapport between us that made up for the briefing. Yes! God takes care of me. Every time that i get myself into trouble, God provides a way to crawl out of it.

6. Yesterday, Thursday, was great. I always immensely enjoy our annual reverse evaluations. While they can be uncomfortable for new managers, since they are a collection of problems that get in the way of effective work accomplishment, presented publicly by employees who are selected by their colleagues as representatives from each office, they provide me with extremely useful information about how happy employees are, what policies are needed, what practices are effective or ineffective, and how employee-management relationships are faring. I, too, am a target for complaints, but that is fine. That is what the day is all about. To keep me honest, I bring in an outside facilitator from the local community, someone skilled at facilitation. We have used the same person for three years now. He says he likes facilitating our reverse evaluation more than any other facilitation work he does because our reverse evaluation tends to be a love-in. We end up with taskings for improvement. To each task, I assign an action officer who is responsible to ensure that agree-upon changes are actually accomplished, and progress is shared with all employees at all our branch offices and our main office through an Internet site. Employees enjoy the reverse evaluation, too, because they get a chance to change the organization in ways in which they would like to see it work.

7. Friday is here! I need to go to bed! I have to get up in three hours to ready myself to attend a very important meeting at the set of offices that is 15 minutes farther away from my house than my set of offices. We have one of our most senior people arriving from Washington. At least, I don't have to do the briefing! I also have to make a lunch to take with me because we will have a working lunch. Following that, though, I get to go back to my own office where we are having a holiday party. Yes! As Doah would say, "Par-tee, par-tee!"

I hope you have had as enjoyable a week as I have had. Certainly, ending it with a party is a great way for a week to go out. I have an even greater way post-party to end the week...Sleep!!!!!