Aimless and Ashamed

Other people’s priorities can cloud my judgment, thwarting my ability to make decisions. If I stay at home with my son, but can’t afford piano lessons or little league, I’m denying him opportunities. If I focus on maintaining my home, I lack the time to volunteer at school. If volunteer activities consume my day, I’m folding laundry instead of helping my daughter with homework. If I go back to work, I’m shirking my parental duties. And so the circle of guilt continues. No matter what I choose, shame lurks over me like a dark cloud refusing to rain.

I’m shackled by the weight of everyone’s disappointment in me. To make matters worse, most people have reasonable expectations and are understandably perplexed at my inability to deliver. Yet once amassed, these expectations, no longer reasonable, conspire to bury me.

The shame is unbearable. So I scatter snippets of myself; just enough to lower raised eyebrows and mollify my wounds. In the process, I lose sight of the person God called me to be. I’m like a puppy who bounces from person to person, with no direction or purpose other than to lap up a morsel of food or find the softie who’s sure to rub my tummy.

The Bible tells us we were created with purpose. For we are God's workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do. (Eph 2:10, NIV) If we know God created us with purpose, why does it wound so deeply when others tell us we’ve failed to meet their expectations? Shouldn’t it be enough to know God’s purpose and act accordingly?

Apparently, most of us don’t have the bulldog focus and determination of Winston Churchill. Take a stroll through your local Christian bookstore and you’ll see rows of books on managing time, determining priorities and setting boundaries. These resources help individuals learn to say no, a skill critical to stress reduction.

But then, there are those who don’t struggle at all with turning you down flat. And when you’ve had to compensate for people who refuse to help, you empathize with those who are drowning - you want to spare them the frustration you’ve felt. Your sympathetic side struggles to say no. Being counted among the “do nothings” who suck the life from every organization is more than you can stomach.

How do you care about others without becoming a rescuer? How do you discover a sense of purpose when so many needs compete for your energy? Those who are both compassionate and focused have learned to coexist with a nagging reality. They know they must identify the yes’s in their lives before they can allow themselves to say no.