We have probably all shuddered at the news of others’ job loss, serious illness, and life changing accidents. Many have likely lived through these events. From the perimeter, I’ve dropped off meals, attended fundraisers, gathered and made donations, and made baskets for many silent auctions. I’ve felt good about those things, and the people involved have thanked me. I’ve lent money, time, and resources to those truly struggling. I was glad to be able to help. But here’s the thing- I fear I was also VERY PROUD that I was able. You see, I liked being the helper. I liked being able to be generous. I liked easing struggle.
I think I felt good for helping, but I think I felt really good about me, and that…makes me very disappointed in myself.
So recently, the tables turned in a big way, and I needed help. I didn’t know where to look, but figured I would find a way.
Then “the way” got DIFFICULT. And I got scared. And overwhelmed. And I possibly turned into a not-so-fun-to be-around person. I knew the situation was not something I caused, but I needed to find a way out, a way past, a way through. I didn’t like how it was making me feel, even though how I felt was not the most important thing.
The important part, is that someone stepped in with an offer of help. The offer was unsolicited. The offer was TOO big. The offer, was something I could not turn down. Suddenly I realized what it was like to need help, to hate asking, and to hate accepting it even more. But more importantly, I realized how pure the motives were of the person offering. I realized what it was like to lean, really lean on someone. I felt like this was a checkpoint for me personally, because while I am often grateful, I have never been truly humbled.
