Two Little Letters

I am a helper. It's my job, and I also think it's part of my spiritual gifting and calling. But helping has its struggles. Lately, I've felt so burdened by its weight. So many people. So many causes. So many needs. I just can't manage it all. And that's because I can't. I've been realizing that in the midst of this all, I can care, but I can't save. I never consciously told myself I had saving abilities, but somehow I was acting like it. The words caring and saving differ by only two little letters, but in actual living, they differ greatly.

Caring and saving are both verbs. They are both actions. They differ greatly in motivation, however. I show care because I value someone, because I like or love them, because I want to help. I try to save when I think too much of my own abilities, when I am afraid, when I don't think I can survive if that person isn't save. Care comes from a place of peace and calm and trust in God. Saving comes from a place of not trusting God and thinking that I have to be God.

Care includes care for myself and others, so that I can sustain the work. Saving is often a panic grasping at straws to try to get something done, most often for others, without much focus on if the action is healthy for me, or for them. Caring is about sustaining. Saving is about survival, which puts me into survival brain.

S for C. V for R. The differences are slight in spelling, but immense in functioning. I am not made for saving the world. There is one Savior, and I am not it. Instead of grasping at straws, may I submit all my straws to Him and trust Him to fill my cup and sustain those I love. I simply don't have what it takes.

What It Looks Like to Care

Care. "The provision of what is necessary for the health, welfare, maintenance, and protection of someone or something" (Oxford Languages, n.d.). I used to think it was about me doing the work: physically, mentally, spiritually, and/or emotionally. Now I realize it is so much more.

Sometimes care looks like asking for help. I want to do the thing, but I can't. So I ask for help, and I accept the help offered.

Sometimes care looks like letting someone else do the task. Their way. Their care. I have to humble myself, especially when their care is better than what I could offer.

Sometimes care looks like making hard decisions, decisions other people might not like. Decisions of which others might not approve, but in my own heart, I determine are right before God, and before the ones in question.

And sometimes care looks like not making decisions. It looks like letting circumstances ride out their course. It looks like letting people face consequences for their decisions, sometimes very difficult ones. Sometimes it hurts a lot to care in this way.

Care. It's both a lot harder, and a lot fuller than I ever imagined. May God continue to teach me what the word means, even I learn to accept that in all this big, beautiful, and hard life, He is caring perfectly for me.

Reference:

Oxford Languages. (n.d.). Google's English Dictionary. https://www.google.com/search?q=care+definition

What a Doctor's Visit Should Be

I went to the doctor recently for my yearly well check.

The nurse weighed me, but the doctor didn't comment about my weight (even though I've gained a bit since last year, a good thing for me!).

The doctor examined me, but didn't comment about my appearance.

The doctor asked me questions and didn't question my answers.

The doctor asked about my job. She asked me if I was happy. She encouraged me to do self-care. She didn't try to force medicine down my throat.

She gave me a hug.

The doctor treated me as a person, not a object. I felt like a human, not like a specimen.

This is how doctor visits should go!