On my desk at work I have a tin with jelly babies in. It started as something nice to do (and slightly influenced by a certain Dr Who…) but has evolved a little. While I still offer jelly babies to those who come in, they have also taken on the role of a pick-me-up for frustrated or anxious colleagues. The thing is, I’m a pretty good listener, I care, and I’m trustworthy, so I find people willing share things with me to get them off their chests – cue a pastoral jelly baby (or two!)
This week there have been a number of situations, at work and in my social life, where I have been able to offer that safe space to people who needed it. They have been able to share what’s on their hearts and minds, and leave knowing they have been heard and that they are loved. It’s a wonderful privilege to be able to support people in this way.
However, there is a shadow side to this gift. Sometimes my friends share and I feel helpless or inadequate. I can sit with them, I can listen to them, but I can’t fix things for them. My frustration comes from caring so deeply – if I could take away their pain or change their circumstances, I would in a heartbeat!” But I can’t, because I am human. A loving, patient human, but a human all the same.
I was given a pastoral heart, some might call it a mother’s heart, so this caring is a natural part of who I am. Recently, I was reminded of a verse in Galatians where Paul says, “Carry each other’s burdens and in this way you will fulfil the law of Christ.” It’s biblical to support one another. But there is a tension there. When people share with me, they do so because they know I won’t gossip about it. I have shared their burdens, but how can is share my own frustrations? While I am pleased to offer that space and honoured to be someone people feel they can turn to, there are times when it takes a toll, spiritually and emotionally.
This morning, a friend reminded me of the need to take a break, to look after myself as well as those I care about. There was a situation unfolding between friends and, while I had no idea what I could do, I wanted to help in some way. My friends words were a reminder to stop and take a step back. If I’m exhausted and emotionally drained, how much help can I really offer? (I compromised slightly by buying them a coffee then leaving them to it…)
Even Jesus would withdraw for times of solitude and refreshment. There are many examples, but Luke 5 is great for this situation. Jesus meets a man with leprosy and, moved by compassion, reaches out, touches him and heals him. Hearing about Jesus, people from all over flock to him to be healed. But ‘Jesus often withdrew to lonely places and prayed’. Rest isn’t neglecting the people we love, it’s necessary to allow us to continue caring.
So today, I spent most of the day at home. I listened to some music, sorted out my bookshelf, drank copious amounts of tea and gave myself permission to take a breather. Oh, and I spent a little time in prayer too. Because while I can’t carry it all or fix it all, I have a God who cares about these people more than I do and who can carry the emotional load. And he wants what’s best for us all in the long run, so I guess I also need to remember to trust God with those I care about.
So if this resonates with you, if you feel like you care too much, if you’re overwhelmed by the burdens of those around you, remember to take a step back. Give yourself permission to rest, recharge, and most of all, trust that God is holding them even when you can’t (and if you need it, I can recommend a pastoral jelly baby or two!) If you need a little help, try this prayer:
Lord, help me to love and care well, but also to trust you with what I cannot carry alone.
The Reason for my Hope Blog 