Care for me
continued from Page 1
rescue another person from a tight spot. It may be choosing to leave them in their dilemma because something else needs attention from us. It feels opposite to truly caring.
In my article in the last issue of the Care Capsule, I described how we need to guard against letting ourselves get into situations that end up draining us and thus damaging our ability or our enthusiasm for our mission to demonstrate Care and Kindness. I entitled the article “Don’t Do Too Much” because I wanted to make note of the need for setting boundaries. I focused on one particular way to do that—advising that it is not a good idea to offer blank check invitations. They are usually well-intended, but they can backfire when the recipient of your offer accepts it to such a degree that you start to have negative feelings toward him or her.
Setting proper boundaries is proper stewardship of our finite number of hours. As I grew as a pastoral counselor, I learned that when the person knew there was a closed end on our session, productivity increased, especially near the end of the hour. Open ended meetings, on the other hand, as with Bert, could meander wastefully all over the place before getting down to business.
Setting limits can mean saying “no” to someone seeking help. We may imagine that a friend, parent, or pastor, or even God, expects activity from us that has no boundaries. So our kind and caring hearts stumble when we need to set a limit and to restrict our involvement.
Setting limits can cause discomfort to others, as well as ourselves, because it involves some form of saying “no”. Now and then, setting a limit forces us to be almost rude. When we interrupt the non-stop talker on the telephone and insist we have to attend to some other duty, it seems rude. That was certainly the way I felt in dealing with Bert.
Here’s another relationship I didn’t know how to handle properly: During Theological studies I met a pleasant young man named Don. He was an intelligent man, about my age, a college graduate, athletic, and a talented pianist and artist. But his challenge was Adult Onset Mental Illness and I knew nothing about it back then. Don would come over to where I lived, and we would play catch, go golfing, and talk a lot. But Don wouldn’t leave. And I didn’t 
know how to get him to go home; I had studying to do. But I was stuck. Later, I learned Don was slipping into Schizophrenia. Normal activities and his good judgment were diminishing almost weekly.
I did not know how to do the right thing. Gradually I stopped calling Don and sidestepped his attempts to spend time with me. I dropped him. Instead of setting limits, I “moved away”. I could have managed the relationship in a kindly manner—I should have—but I just quit.
We must be able to say “no.” The major force blocking sensible nay-saying may be our need to be liked. We believe that saying “no”, or in some way shortening, modifying or abridging our care, will be regarded as a slight, an indifference, or rejection. That rejection, we fear, will turn the person against us. We imagine they will stop liking us, think negatively of our character, or just pull away from us.
The capacity to say “no” is an essential attribute of a mature person who weighs the alternatives, ponders the costs, considers the tradeoffs, and decides sensibly. Little do we realize that saying “no” — setting a limit — is usually based on good judgment, shows strength of character, and often causes us to gain solid respect, even when it bothers someone.
There are a couple more tips on how to set good boundaries that I have learned over time: (1) practice brevity; and (2) when dealing with grief, leave the healing to God.
First, it is important to learn to keep things brief. In teaching care tactics, I wrap an important guideline in the phrase, “Care for me, but you do not have to adopt me.” Good care is possible through brief contacts! A thirty-second face-to-face message of empathy like “Sorry to hear about your Grandmother being so ill.” is a solid gift.
Meeting Bernise at the shopping mall a few weeks after her husband died might lead to a warm hug and a “Good to see you. I’ve been thinking about you and praying for you.” Then off you go. You do not have to ask her to go for coffee with you or invite her to share lunch. You have delivered a blessing and can rightfully move on. More is possible, but it is not necessary.
Secondly, distinguishing between our part in caring and God’s part is a measure of wisdom. This is a different form of limit setting. It is setting a boundary around what we try to do. It is allowing oneself to have a modest impact, rather than feeling a need to accomplish something major.
When someone’s loved one has died, the temptation lies in thinking we need to move the grieving to higher ground — that is, to cheer them by our words and attitudes. Instead of simple empathy, we may resort to ideas and answers we hope will make them feel a little better. In other words, we try to fix them.
Here, limit setting involves a clear idea of what is possible and of what we are capable. We cannot fix such tragic situations and we should not try. We must resist all temptations to say something we imagine might cheer the sorrowing if our words in any way discount the awfulness. For example, when an aged parent dies, it is natural to say “she lived a good long life.” It is a kindly and positive reflection designed to lessen the sadness, but it is better to just say, “It is hard to lose a Mom.”
God will heal. We show up, walk alongside, sit with, hug, listen, weep with, bring casseroles, and acknowledge the pain. Then we go home, leaving the healing to God. Those are our limitations. We must resist the temptation to try to make the situation less hurtful, which is impossible. It is hurtful. Let it hurt. God will heal. Accept that you cannot.
It is vital that we set limits and to know our limits. It will preserve us for participation in care and kindness delivery for the long run. It is also excellent modeling. Saying “no” or setting a limit on ourselves, or on another individual, demonstrates an inner strength others can emulate. Often the one on whom we set a limit badly needs that capacity in his own life.
One more thing. In the process of saying “no”, we actually are saying “yes” to something else. Conversely, when we say “yes” to one thing, we are saying “no “ to another person or activity. It helps to think about that. Who am I saying “no” to when I am saying “yes” to someone else?
Talking about being careful to not do too much aims to keep good people actively demonstrating care and kindness. Our intention is a community that overflows with love and compassion. Experience has shown, however, that the well can run dry. The Apostle Paul advised, “Do not grow weary in well-doing.” That is our concern.
We want to keep God’s good people energetic, motivated and positive in the delivery of gifts to those around them.
Sensible rationing is required behavior.
