Do What You Do
The season of giving is upon us; as we rush through the final holidays of the year remember that volunteering your time or money is a way to give throughout the whole year. Select a cause, organization or individuals that mean something to you and offer some of your resources to them in the new year. It is good for your overall health to get outside of yourself and do something helpful for others.
Volunteer work is not a narcissistic endeavor, and don’t give in order to get something in return. Think of it this way: “I will do someone a good turn; if anyone finds out, it will not count.”
Here’s a letter from my high school friend, Leura. She wrote it last year after her daughter Catherine was stillborn. Its’ great advice!
One of the biggest lessons I learned in 2006 came from being a person in crisis. I’ve managed to pretty well avoid suffering throughout my adult life, so it was interesting to suddenly be the person in crisis, after our baby died, and to see how people responded. I was overwhelmed by people’s expressions of support, and one of the most natural things said to me was, “Let me know if there’s anything I can do.” In a stupor of pain, grief, and exhaustion, the easiest response to that is just to say, “thank you” and let it drop. It’s not that the needs weren’t there; it’s just that the offer came at a time when I couldn’t even decide if I wanted to take a shower or not.
“What can I do for you?” is loaded with good intentions, and maybe it’s helpful for some grieving people. But for me, it just added more pressure. I wanted to cry out, “I don’t even know what I can do for myself! How can I tell you what to do for me?”
That’s when I learned something that will stick with me the rest of my life. I wanted people to do what they do. This was easy for me, because I’ve always known what I do. I’m a letter writer/card sender/phone caller. When someone around me is suffering, I pull out a pen and pray for God to give me the wisdom to encourage and love my friend through my words. I’m not much of a casserole-maker or a house-cleaner, although if asked I would certainly do these things for a suffering friend. But I’m more of a letter-writer. That’s what I do. And the brightest part of those dark days was going to the mailbox and hearing from other letter-writers/card-senders.
I’m not someone who particularly cares about flowers, but I was deeply touched by the arrangements sent by my flower-sending friends. Though they made my husband sneeze and my son’s nose run, the flowers sat on my table reminding me that I was loved.
Then there were the sitters—people who just came over to be with me. They weren’t there to cheer me up or load my dishwasher; they were there to listen if I wanted to talk or sit there with me if I didn’t want to be alone.
The casserole-makers are an obvious blessing, especially the ones who just show up and don’t ask a lot of questions beforehand. Food has no taste when you’re grieving, so make what sounds good to you! If it’s one less thing I have to think about, even if it’s not my favorite dish, I’ll be grateful.
My sister-in-law Jana is a doer. She took my kids so I could sleep and cleaned my van while she was at it. My friend Kendra is also a doer. She gave my little girls baths and returned my unused maternity clothes. She also bought me cabbage leaves to wear the dreadful day my milk came in. It didn’t help, but how thankful I was that I didn’t have to buy the cabbage. I needed this from her so much more than a lasagna.
The grieving person is doubly blessed when you do what you do. Not only are you serving her, but you’re removing any potential awkwardness and guilt she may feel about your kindness. If my friend who doesn’t cook brings me some elaborate spread of homemade food, I’m going to be touched, but I’m also going to feel weird. If she runs through the drive-thru and brings my kids Happy Meals, all is right with the world. Spare me the awkwardness of having to pass when you volunteer to watch my three little kids but haven’t changed a diaper since 1976. And for heaven’s sake, please don’t come sit with me if you’re not a sitter! (You’ll know you’re not a sitter if long periods of sad silence make you uncomfortable and you’re desperately looking for an escape. It’s OK. Do what you do.)
The day before I went back to work, someone asked my close friend, “What does Leura want us to do? Should we hug her or act like nothing happened?” You can probably guess what I wanted. I wanted the huggers to hug, the criers to cry, and the people who felt uncomfortable to just smile and say, “Good to see you.”
God has given us each unique strengths and passions. You know what yours are. Put these to use when the people around you are suffering. When you do what you do, you’re giving the very best of yourself to someone who desperately needs you. –Leura Jones, 2006
