Helpless

In August, I learned what it means to feel helpless.

It was a new feeling, one that I was not experienced with and had not really thought about ever before. I had never thought about the idea that I could feel completely, utterly unable to help--to watch someone struggle and not be able to do anything for them. 

Here's the deal. If you've never seen me, I'm a small, slender white girl. I don't weigh a lot and I'm not that strong. And in August, when I was at Elevation, we had a simulation where we had to get our entire pod (group), some of which were "sick", "blind" or "wounded", from one place to another. I'll spare you all the details, but to cut it short, it was an extremely difficult thing to watch--knowing that I knew the way to where we needed to go and I knew how far we had to go, and knowing that there was absolutely NOTHING I could do for my Podmates whom I loved so dearly to help or to hurry them. If I were a big, strong boy, maybe I could pick one of the smaller ones up and carry them on my back, but that wasn't an option. I'm a heroic spirit in a little body.

Well that was an interesting exercise. I wonder how it relates to real life.

Oh wait, now I know.

Do you know what is difficult beyond belief? Helplessness. Being completely, utterly unable to help someone you love who is emotionally or spiritually sick, blind, or wounded. It's not a matter of being physically too small, it's a matter of the fact that it's them, not you; and in this life, as humans, no matter how much support we receive from those who love us, no matter how much they prop us up, in the end, it's up to us to face our own battles--alone. 

I've watched friends in these struggles before, but I've never known a name by which to call this feeling. Helplessness. "I can do nothing for you," it sobs. "I've given you everything I can, but I CANNOT carry you. It's impossible." I have a heroic spirit, but I'm once again too little to carry those I love.

I wouldn't call myself a control freak, but I do like to have some semblance of control over various elements of my life. And feeling like something so close to home is beyond my control is hard. I guess that's what mortality is about.
I have yet to come to learn and accept the fact that it's not my job to control it anyways. It's not on me. I'm not in a position to help people: I'm in the midst of a struggle, too. We're all deeply flawed beings in desperate need of Christ's grace to rescue us. That includes me. I like to be the "strong one". I like to lift others. But I don't have the power to really lift them. I must learn to accept the fact that the best that I can do is brush the dirt off them and point them at Christ. He is the One who fixes everything. He is the one who is strong enough to carry my struggling friends, and yes, even struggling me. Helplessness will be a condition of life until I learn this one simple lesson.

Jesus Christ is the Savior of the World. I love Him with all my heart. I want nothing, nothing more than to spend forever in His light, drinking in His purity, His glory, and His power. He is responsible for lifting me and making me every good thing I am. He is the One who can and will lift me every day until the day I die. He is the only one who can lift anyone up. If only I could learn this one simple lesson....