Today my two year-old tried to help me put the groceries away. And by tried, I mean she dumped a pack of blueberries and then chucked a carton of eggs to the floor with such force that half of the eggs broke. My toddler looked innocently at us like, “Ok, what else do you want me to put away?” We told her “thanks, but no thanks” and off she went to get into God knows what else. As my husband and I cleaned up the egg mess, we just chuckled to ourselves.
All that mess and she was only trying to help.
Yesterday six year-old was trying to make lunch for her littlest sister. I was sick in bed and figured a PB&J might help calm down my hungry toddler. Right as she began to work, my husband came home. His plan was to make lunch for the girls and himself as quickly as possible. He also had no clue I had asked our oldest for help. So he told all the kids to leave the kitchen and he would take care of lunch. Cue the meltdown. My six year-old was heartbroken that her help was no longer needed. She cried to her dad that she had been asked to make sandwiches. She pleaded in her whiniest voice. And then I heard her tell her father he was not allowed to sass her. (I just smiled; happy knowing my husband was taking care of this and not me.)
I can’t tell you how many times I’ve felt that all the work I’ve tried to do feels like blueberries rolling all over the floor and smashed eggs. I was trying my best. I thought I was doing what was helpful, necessary, needed. Then there were times when I started doing what I was told to do, only to have the expectations changed. I can understand my six year-old’s meltdown. It is frustrating when you feel entrusted with something and then it’s taken away from you.
Between the blueberries, eggs and lunchtime meltdown, I had a couple insights…
It’s never wrong to show up and offer to help, but your “why” matters.
I’m so thankful that my girls are cultivating a spirit of service. I love to praise them for going the extra mile to bless someone else. As children, when we think of others, it’s a big deal. Kids have to learn to be generous and considerate.
As adults, we sometimes offer help for motivations that go beyond generosity. Maybe our identity is wrapped up in hearing the words: “I couldn’t have done this without you!” Maybe we want to do some impression management; “Look how nice he is!” Maybe we just love to problem solve; “I know the answer that will make all this trouble go away!” I think most times when we offer to help it comes from a genuine place. We just have to be willing to hear “no thanks.”
If my offer of help truly comes from a place of unselfish service and joyful giving, hearing “no thanks” won’t sting nearly as much. During my college years I worked at a camp and retreat center called Grace Adventures. It was there that I learned a certain gem that I will always carry with me: “the foot washing philosophy.” A quick explanation is that our service needs to look like Jesus getting on his hands and knees, putting on servants’ garments and scrubbing the dried mud on the disciples’ calloused feet the night of the Last Supper (John 13:1-17). So no matter what, when the moment comes when you could be of service to someone remember to humbly take off your cloak, wrap the towel around your waist and smile as you scrub the grime off those feet, even if they are a bit stinky. And don’t be offended if they say, “no thanks” too.
Sometimes we just need to clean up the mess and move on, giving ourselves lots of grace.
Oh the mess. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve made a mess when I meant to help. The story that pops into my mind first is when my friend and her husband moved into their new house a year ago. They were doing some projects the week before they moved in and I offered my husband’s handyman skills and to prepare a meal. The day I showed up was a bit hectic. There were three people re-roofing outside and three people painting inside. And I showed up with THREE KIDS UNDER FIVE. (Big palm to forehead moment) Did I mention my friends were DINKS (double income, no kids) with beautiful furniture and no toys??? Yeah, not my brightest move. My friend came home from work to half a roof, people roaming all over her house and a kitchen COVERED in food. I know my dear friend. She sees her home as a sanctuary. But that day, it was anything but calm and peaceful.
I just wanted to help, you know? (Did I forget to mention it was her birthday as well?)
She was gracious and kind and loving and patient. I finally served dinner and tried to clean up my mess, while also trying to contain my kids. My friend unpacked a couple boxes and found a board game to keep the girls preoccupied. It all worked out fine. But I realized something that day: when I offer help, it should be like a glass of ice cold water handed to you on a hot day. Instead my “help” was more like saying, “I’ll get you that glass of water if you keep my kids entertained while I make ice cubes.”
But guess what? My friend still loves me. She didn’t yell at me for making a mess. And I need to forgive myself too. Next time I offer to help, I’ll leave the kids at home and bring an already prepared meal…if she lets me. 😉
Expectations change.
So back to the six year-old meltdown…I have to be honest with you. I have had a meltdown like this before. I may not have cried and told someone not to sass me, but I have gotten very upset. Ok, maybe I have yelled a time or two…but that was at my husband, not my coworker, so it’s not as bad, right? 😉
It is so easy to flip out when things change. You think you’re doing everything right and then BAM! CHANGE! Maybe you aren’t needed anymore. Maybe your solution isn’t working. Maybe there was a misunderstanding. Whatever it is, how do you handle it? I wish I could be more like my two year-old and shake it off. “So what if I dropped a whole container of blueberries and egged the kitchen floor?” She actually is a great grocery unpacker. Every week she hands me each item one by one and the food safely makes it to its destination. The only difference from this week and all the other weeks was that a key component was missing: me. I wasn’t standing with her when she started unloading.
I think I need to remember that lesson when expectations change in my own life. If my help is no longer needed, that doesn’t mean it’s a personal attack. Maybe the timing wasn’t right. Who knows? But that doesn’t mean I stop showing up and offering.
I hope next week my toddler can hand me those eggs and I am there to grab them. Ok, maybe not the eggs, how about something safe like a bag of marshmallows?
House of Dreams 