I’ve always been very independent. My dad says that my first day of “school” (at the ripe old age of 2), I didn’t even hug him goodbye. There were people to meet, after all, and things to do–who needs Dad? I distinctly remember learning to pump on the swings, probably around age 3, and thinking to myself, “This is great! I don’t need anything from anyone anymore. I can do it all myself!” Friends, I even got excited when I had my first headache in second grade because I thought that made me an adult. Really, I was born 30.
So I’m sure it comes as no surprise that I like to be master of my own domain. I like to call the shots. I’ve pretty much been in charge of everything I’ve ever done; it’s that type A thing again. The problem is that on top of being bossy and opinionated, I’m almost pathologically lazy. Which means that, while I want to be in charge, I don’t actually want to do anything or even really make any hard decisions. Basically, I was born to be a princess–run everything except when I don’t want to.
This back and forth between doing everything and doing nothing makes me a big fan of Augustine’s line, “Pray as if everything depended on God, work as if everything depended on you.” Except that Augustine (and Ignatius of Loyola after him) meant for the two to be done simultaneously–hard work and complete trust in God. I have a tendency to do them sequentially. First, I work my butt off without asking God for any help at all. Then when I fail miserably, I sit on my worn-out butt and pout until he swoops in and fixes it all. I make ridiculous deals with him like, “If you want me to have a car, you’ll just have to give me one.” Like he’s Bob Barker or something. Either I do everything and you can sit the and watch, God, or you do everything and I’ll put my seal of approval on at the end. No collaboration, here. Either autonomy or ease.
But whether I’m in the working portion of the cycle or the praying portion, I’m doing it all myself. I hate asking for help. It’s not that I hate being helped–remember that I’m lazy–I just don’t want to seem needy. I think it stems from a deep-seated fear I have of being too much. I’m loud and awkward and obnoxious and emotional–everything about me is just big.1 Sometimes it feels as though I’ve spent my whole life being told to be quiet or sit down or calm down or go away and I’ve really bought into the lie that I’m just too much.2 So to cope, I want to give and give to people but I don’t ever want to take because then maybe they’ll hate me. I hate doing dishes more than almost anything (except running and bananas, as you’ve probably realized), but I’ll do dishes at other people’s houses because I don’t want them to think I’m a freeloader.
But God loves me too much to leave me the mess that I am. So after I gave away everything I owned and entered the convent, thinking, “Ah, now I never have to ask for anything again because everything will be given to me,”3 the Lord led me out of the convent. Oh, and told me not to get anything–a car, a phone, a place to stay. I spent the next 7 months completely dependent on the incredible generosity of my sister and brother-in-law. Theoretically, I was learning that I deserve other people’s help. Nope, just felt guilty and in the way the whole time.
Then I got a job, but still no car. I spent two and a half years mooching rides off people (in the suburbs and a small town–zero public transportation) so that I could learn to ask for help. Instead, I just didn’t go anywhere. I lived off of ramen rather than ask for a ride to get fresh food. By the time I finally got a car, I’m pretty sure I had scurvy.4
I know intellectually that we’re supposed to be community and that I at least need to trust that the people who love me want to help me. I’m trying. I really am. But whenever I ask for something (or even feel that by my very life I’m asking for something), I feel ashamed. And afraid that this will be the last straw, that after this ride from the airport or this stopover in your guest room or this visit for lunch you’ll realize that I’m just too much. I know that people love me and they want to help me and that most of the time they don’t even see it as help but as friendship. But this is the lie Satan has convinced me to believe: pretty much anybody who spends time with me is doing me a favor and I’d better not ask for too many favors. Is anybody with me on this? Am I just neurotic?
It all comes down to pride, of course. Everything does. In my pride, I don’t want to need anyone else. I want everyone to see me as self-sufficient because then I can be the magnanimous one in the relationship and they can be the peons graced by my presence. And when I can’t do that, well, I’d rather just suffer.
Humility doesn’t suffer in silence–humility asks for help. Jesus asked for help in carrying his cross; why do I think I’m strong enough to carry mine alone? When people love me and offer to help me, why can’t I rejoice in their friendship? Why do I have to obsess over my guilt?
So right now this is what I’m really struggling with: balancing my efforts, my trust in God, and other people’s help. I’m inclined to spend hours a day on the internet putting my whole life in order. Which will leave me exhausted and miserable and with no idea of where to go or what to do. On the other hand, I’m inclined to sit back and let God make things happen for me. I know he can, I’m just pretty sure that he won’t. He refuses just to live my life for me, more’s the pity. I’m not at all inclined to ask people for help. But when I took a break from work to get in some pray, the word I got was “help.”
So I’m going to try to grow in this area by asking for help. People have been so generous with this whole new life of mine and I’m so grateful. But some people have been asking how they can support me, so I’m going to swallow my colossal pride and tell you what I really need:
- Prayer: Duh.
- Speaking engagements: I’m loving the blogging–I’m actually shocked at how much–but I feel so drawn to public speaking. I’m not too proud to speak to confirmation classes or groups of church ladies. I can do youth or adults and I can talk on pretty much any topic. Plus, you only have to pay me if you want to, so you really can’t lose! If you work at a school or work at a church or go to a church or know someone who does one of the above, do you think you could set something up for me to come speak? I’d really appreciate it!
- Connections: I know a lot of people in education and ministry, but if you know someone I don’t, do you think you could pass my blog on to them and suggest that they ask me to come speak?
- Publicity: I know some of you must have been sharing my blog because I’m getting more and more hits on it. Don’t just share it because you’re my friend (which I think most of you are at this point), but if I post something that really moves you or convinces you or makes you laugh, could you share it with your friends? I’ve got nifty sharing tools down at the bottom for you. If you’ve got a blog yourself, it would be amazing if you’d link to mine. Apparently search engines really care about that. Or you could like me on Facebook–click the facebook “f” at the top of the sidebar.
- Computer geek stuff: My C++ teacher would be ashamed of me if he knew how technologically inept I am now, but the SEO business is killing me. Why are there over 2000 results for “Meg Hunter-Kilmer”? Why doesn’t this page show up till page 4? Why can’t I google all my individual posts? Why doesn’t googling these questions get me decent answers??
- Advice/suggestions: Maybe you started a career like this and you’ve got some thoughts. Or maybe you know how to use social media to advertise yourself. Or maybe you’ve never made it to the end of one of my posts and want to tell me to keep it short. Bearing in mind that I can be appallingly sensitive, could you give me your thoughts? I can be reached through the contact me page or via facebook.
I hate asking for help. But I can’t do this without it. Feel free to ignore and just keep reading the blog–even the one hit your click adds to the stats that I check obsessively is a help.
You guys are the best!
- Especially my head. Have you ever noticed that? I can’t fit into a single hat at Target. Also, I might have lice now. BTW.<–my mother wants me to make sure that everyone knows that this is just a joke about how you’re not supposed to try on hats. I don’t have lice. [↩]
- John and Stasi Eldredge do a great job of explaining how every woman is afraid that she’s either too much or not enough–or both, for many women–in their book Captivating. I really recommend it. [↩]
- which is not actually how it works [↩]
- My friend Nick had scurvy. I thought it was an STD that pirates got and I was really embarrassed for him. Then he told me it came from a vitamin C deficiency and I was really embarrassed for me. Probably should have known that. [↩]
Hey Meg~ Do you have a group page or anything like that on facebook for me to like? Also, I read a lot of Catholic blogs, I assume you do also. I recommend Little Catholic Bubble. Anyway, I know once you get into that community they are really good at linking to each other which is how I’ve found so many I like! I do run Theology on Tap here in Omaha, but we don’t have much of a budget. Our speakers only get 75 dollars which wouldn’t even cover your expenses. However, if you ever are going to be out my way in October or during Lent, let me know!
http://www.facebook.com/mhunterkilmer is the page you can like–there’s not too much on there yet that isn’t on my regular page, but it makes me feel special to have likes. I just checked out Little Catholic Bubble–that should be really helpful. Thanks! $75 and an air mattress to sleep on is plenty, especially if I can time it when I’m out that way anyway. I’ll email you 🙂
Thanks, Beth!!
You are not just neurotic. I, too, was born 30, hate running, and I especially HATE doing the dishes (which is especially problematic because I love to cook). Ironically, though, it was living in DC for two years rather than in a small town that taught me patience and humility.