I was doing it. I was finally going to be a responsible
human being within our society. I was going to be one who gives back. I was
going to be about saving lives. I was ready to be a hero. So there I sat,
patiently waiting, in a curtained-off cubicle while being asked questions that
would make your dirty Uncle Steve blush.
It didn't matter. I didn't care. Now was my moment and I was
ready. Hand me my cape... It's hero time!
Sadly, it didn't matter whether I felt ready or that I
wanted to help. The good people at the blood donation station had deemed my
blood unusable and politely asked me to go home. Before you start worrying (and
"thank you!" if you were), my blood was rejected because my wife and
I had gone to an area of Mexico for our honeymoon that was at risk for exposure
to Malaria. Neither of us has been sick with malaria, but the saintly blood
takers of the Red Cross would rather be safe than sorry.
rejected |
Walking into that room with all the tables and needles, I
had filled my head with thoughts of donating at least once a month if possible.
I was ready to give. I was going to make a difference.
Walking out, I wasn't even allowed to think about donating
for at least a year. No matter how much I wanted to help and how much I wanted
to give, I was barred from doing so.
I've been amazed recently by how much this theme comes up in
my life. I want to help... but I can't. I want to fix something... but I'm not
allowed.
It is not that I have such horrible ideas; it is simply that
I am INCAPABLE of helping. This reality is infuriating, however, because the
situations we are the most incapable of fixing often have to do with the people
that we love the most.
Imagine this scenario: Your friend is sitting across the
table from you, spilling out his or her pain from the most recent issue that
has come up. As your friend speaks, you note how each word is filled with
insecurity, self-doubt, and negativity. Understanding what is going on, you
proceed to speak words of positivity and truth. You say things like, "There
is a reason that I am your friend," and, "If you could just see
yourself the way I do..." Your friend politely says, "Thank
you," and walks away with a smile on his or her face. Two weeks later, you
have the same conversation with the same friend with all the same insecurity,
self-doubt and negativity.
Frustrating, right? "We've already been over this! Stop
believing that horseshit!" But our yelling won't help, and as long as we
think we can actually save our friend from his or her pain and problems, we are
destined to live in this frustration.
As my good (albeit "nerdy") friend once told me,
"Some dragons we are not meant to slay." And as my beautiful and wise
wife has said on this issue, "You can't love it out of them." My wife
is right. My dorky, dragon-referencing friend is correct. It is certainly good
to speak words of love and truth to our friends and family in need, but we will
forever be incapable of saving or fixing them. That responsibility is with them
and God.
Thus our motives must change. We must love for the sake of
loving, not for the sake of fixing. We must share words of kindness and
affirmation because they are true, not because they will help. And we must
offer ideas and advice when it is asked for, not when it is something
"they need to hear." Anything short of this will be tagged for
malaria exposure and rejected no matter how much we wanted it to help. On this I
am sO positive. (Yay! Blood jokes!)
Hey! Good joke there, Greg! |