Knapsacks & Boulders {Part II}

The boy popped a gold-colored token into the game's slot and waited expectantly for the machine's lights to flash and gears to twirl into motion. But nothing happened. The lights remained dull, and the gears stayed stubbornly still. His damp hair plastered against his forehead, the boy gripped both sides of the machine and cried out to no one in particular, "No! That was my last token!"

Seeing all of this and being in possession of a cup of gold-colored tokens of my own, I stepped toward the boy and stooped down.

"It's OK," I said. "Here, you can have this one."

The boy gaped at me, snatched the token from my fingers, and scurried away without even muttering a "thank you."

I shrugged and wandered in the direction of the "Wacky Gator" game, my favorite at Shakey's Pizza & Buffet. (I loved bopping those gators with the mallet!) The sides of my mouth turned up a bit as I recalled my small act of charity. Suddenly, however, I found myself encircled by a herd of wild, wide-eyed six-year-old boys.

"Here she is!" the boy whom I had helped announced. "This is the girl who's giving away free tokens!"

The herd vibrated. They bounced like popcorn and shot their hands in the direction of my cup of tokens.

"Me!"

"No, ME first!

"Me!"

Completely blindsided and flabbergasted, I handed out my tokens one-by-one to the six-year-old savages.

Before I knew it, I was alone again. There had been no word of thanks (at least, one that I can recall), and I was left with an overwhelming desire to slam a mallet over the heads of some sassy crocodiles. Unfortunately, I had no tokens with which to take up the task.

I mentioned in this previous post that I have had issues with boundaries since childhood. I've always been "too nice," and people who are users have picked up on this. I have lots of stories similar to the one above I could share with the same basic plot.

Understanding that God wants me to use boundaries to protect myself--mind, body, and soul--has been HUGE for me. Being Christian doesn't mean being so "nice" that one allows herself to be trampled. To give away something precious just because someone wants it.

If we return to the knapsack and boulder analogy, the boy's loss of a token was his knapsack. It was his load in life, as we are all sure to face disappointment. Although he might have argued otherwise, it was certainly something he could bear. Even though giving the boy my token was a sweet gesture (I want to go back in time and hug my younger self!), I actually wasn't helping him as much as I thought I was. By fixing the problem for him, I was depriving the boy of a chance to learn how to solve the problem on his own. He (or a parent) could have alerted a Shakey's employee of the machine's malfunction. In doing so, he could be reimbursed his token and the machine would be fixed for the next person. (Or a sign could be attached saying the machine was out of service.) My well-intentioned act of service was teaching the boy to rely on others to bail him out of trouble, a form of rescue that is unreliable at best.

So... should I never help a friend or neighbor with her knapsack?

Let's look at a verse from 2 Corinthians to help us answer this question:

Each one must give as he has decided in his heart, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver.

2 Corinthians 9:7

Did you catch that? When we give of ourselves, we must do it (a) intentionally (something we have decided in our own hearts) and (b) freely, not out of guilt or because we feel like we have to.

Let's use 2 Corinthians 9:7 to analyze my actions in my tragic Shakey's story.

I gave the boy a token of my own to replace the one the machine gobbled up.
*Did I make a decision in my own heart to give the boy my token? Yup!
*Did I do it cheerfully? Sure did!

I gave away all of my tokens to "the herd."
*Did I make a decision in my own heart to give away all the tokens? No! I was blindsided and struck dumb. It was definitely not something I decided to do ahead of time.
*Did I do it cheerfully? No! I felt used and abused afterward.

If you're struggling with deciding whether to help your neighbor with her knapsack, imagine yourself in the future after you have agreed to give of yourself. Is it something you can easily see yourself resenting? That's a sign you should say no.

Should you feel guilty asking for help with your own knapsack?

No way! But the key here is that you should never EXPECT or feel ENTITLED to someone's help with your daily load. If you truly respect others' boundaries, you do not feel angry with them when they say no.

In fact, I can think of two recent examples in which I asked friends for help with my knapsack. In the first instance, I asked a friend if she'd be willing to pick up milk for our family when we were away on vacation. She agreed to help (yay!), and I tried to make it as easy as I could for her. (I dropped off the cooler at her house, gave her the payment ahead of time, and picked up the cooler when we came home.) I can honestly tell you that if she had declined, I would have been 0% upset with her and I would have found a different solution. In the second instance, I agreed to be Administrator of our Classical Conversations Challenge B Mock Trial (say that five times fast). It was a sacrifice of my time and energy, but it was something I was incredibly happy to give! (I LOVE Mock Trial!) #nerd But because I was tied up at the courthouse, I needed a way to get my children to Midweek School. I asked a friend if it would be OK to drop off my children at her house, and she could take them when she took her own children to Midweek. Unfortunately, her week was just as crazy-busy as mine was, and she said no. I was 0% upset with her. In fact, I admire her ability to say no and hope to emulate her in a similar situation when one arises!

I said it before, and I'll say it again. Boundaries by Dr. Henry Cloud and Dr. John Townsend is nothing short of life-changing. I wish I had read it (or, at least, understood its principles) much earlier in life. If I had, I would have been able to tell those wild six-year-olds, "Nope! Giving away a token was a one-time thing." And then, with my cup full of tokens, I could have skipped over to "Wacky Gator" to bop a congregation of alligators. ("Congregation" is the collective noun for alligators. You bet I'm going to sneak in an English grammar lesson! 😉 )

But, seriously, I can't recommend this book highly enough. I hope it helps you as much as it has been helping me!

XOXO,
Kristin