Hey Everyone,
A conversation yesterday had me thinking about those of us who seem to be built for always trying to "rescue" others around them. Throughout my life, I've found myself constantly trying to rescue co-workers, church associates, and, most complicated of all, potential dates. As you can imagine, it generally hasn't worked out very well.
I eventually hit rock bottom when a good friend told me, "Most people saying they want help aren't looking for actual healing, because they aren't willing to put in the work it would take. What they're really looking for is attention -- and they know that if they really did get healed, they'd lose the very thing that's bringing them all this attention."
It seems like such an obvious observation -- common sense, really -- but why it took me so long (and nearly going broke) to realize, I don't know. And when it finally sunk in, it changed my life. These days, the "dry begging" lines I used to fall for hook, line, and sinker ("I really wish I could get -- fill in the blank -- but I can't afford it" -- when that person is spending all their money on useless things -- now leaves me feeling like I've just heard nails screeching across a mile-long chalkboard. And I'm thankful I don't fall for is nearly as much as I used to.
Now OF COURSE, I'm NOT saying that there aren't legitimate needs out there -- of course there are needs all around us. But I've asked God to help me be more responsible in how and to whom I respond.
I had to think of how much God has changed me though, because, as pointed out in yesterday's conversation, The Rescuer can become just as dependent on "rescuing" as those who take advantage of others are dependent on handouts (whether material or emotional.) I went through a phase of feeling like I didn't have a purpose, or, worse yet, "had to be with someone I was helping" -- and was surrounded by others, mostly single parents, who felt the same way.
They were constantly getting into "search and help" relationships in which they did most of the helping and the other person did most of the taking. But the fear of being alone, along with the need to feel needed or useful, was just too strong to let go.
I was once around a guy who expressed his disappointment in me by saying, "You never cry. I wish you would cry around me at least sometimes." (I went through a traumatic time where I do think I've cried most of my tears away, but now usually only cry when God convicts me of something, when I'm at my lowest, or over the suffering of others.)
I was actually taken aback by this, but he said he was so used to women crying on his shoulder, it was something that made him feel needed and he didn't like being without it. While I'm sorry I couldn't oblige, I found it interesting to be on the other side of the fence. Women's emotional pain made him like he had a purpose, and he was addicted to it.
But the thing that really changed me was when God put me around other singles who were living happy, independent lives, regardless of whether they found someone or not. Pretty much all the singles I'd been around up until then were all concerned with finding the next person. Once I got away from this mentality -- my constant need to "rescue" somewhat disappeared -- and now I feel much better helping those who know how to rescue in a healthy way instead.
How about you?
* Are you a rescuer, or have been around one? (A parent, friend, relative, church member, etc.) What have been the results, both good and bad?
* What happens when "rescuing" goes too far and crosses the line into being unhealthy?
* Have you ever tried to "get away" from rescuing (or have watched a rescuer try to stop rescuing?) What happens?
* Did you have to try to stop rescuing, or change how you went about it? What were the results?
* Are you someone who has been around a rescuer, and felt smothered because you didn't really need their rescuing? (Or at least not in the way they were trying to give it.)
I would really like to hear from others who have experienced or watched others go through this.
A conversation yesterday had me thinking about those of us who seem to be built for always trying to "rescue" others around them. Throughout my life, I've found myself constantly trying to rescue co-workers, church associates, and, most complicated of all, potential dates. As you can imagine, it generally hasn't worked out very well.
I eventually hit rock bottom when a good friend told me, "Most people saying they want help aren't looking for actual healing, because they aren't willing to put in the work it would take. What they're really looking for is attention -- and they know that if they really did get healed, they'd lose the very thing that's bringing them all this attention."
It seems like such an obvious observation -- common sense, really -- but why it took me so long (and nearly going broke) to realize, I don't know. And when it finally sunk in, it changed my life. These days, the "dry begging" lines I used to fall for hook, line, and sinker ("I really wish I could get -- fill in the blank -- but I can't afford it" -- when that person is spending all their money on useless things -- now leaves me feeling like I've just heard nails screeching across a mile-long chalkboard. And I'm thankful I don't fall for is nearly as much as I used to.
Now OF COURSE, I'm NOT saying that there aren't legitimate needs out there -- of course there are needs all around us. But I've asked God to help me be more responsible in how and to whom I respond.
I had to think of how much God has changed me though, because, as pointed out in yesterday's conversation, The Rescuer can become just as dependent on "rescuing" as those who take advantage of others are dependent on handouts (whether material or emotional.) I went through a phase of feeling like I didn't have a purpose, or, worse yet, "had to be with someone I was helping" -- and was surrounded by others, mostly single parents, who felt the same way.
They were constantly getting into "search and help" relationships in which they did most of the helping and the other person did most of the taking. But the fear of being alone, along with the need to feel needed or useful, was just too strong to let go.
I was once around a guy who expressed his disappointment in me by saying, "You never cry. I wish you would cry around me at least sometimes." (I went through a traumatic time where I do think I've cried most of my tears away, but now usually only cry when God convicts me of something, when I'm at my lowest, or over the suffering of others.)
I was actually taken aback by this, but he said he was so used to women crying on his shoulder, it was something that made him feel needed and he didn't like being without it. While I'm sorry I couldn't oblige, I found it interesting to be on the other side of the fence. Women's emotional pain made him like he had a purpose, and he was addicted to it.
But the thing that really changed me was when God put me around other singles who were living happy, independent lives, regardless of whether they found someone or not. Pretty much all the singles I'd been around up until then were all concerned with finding the next person. Once I got away from this mentality -- my constant need to "rescue" somewhat disappeared -- and now I feel much better helping those who know how to rescue in a healthy way instead.
How about you?
* Are you a rescuer, or have been around one? (A parent, friend, relative, church member, etc.) What have been the results, both good and bad?
* What happens when "rescuing" goes too far and crosses the line into being unhealthy?
* Have you ever tried to "get away" from rescuing (or have watched a rescuer try to stop rescuing?) What happens?
* Did you have to try to stop rescuing, or change how you went about it? What were the results?
* Are you someone who has been around a rescuer, and felt smothered because you didn't really need their rescuing? (Or at least not in the way they were trying to give it.)
I would really like to hear from others who have experienced or watched others go through this.
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