Stained Glass Secrets

by: Elexis Penner

Help That Feels Like Help

 

I was out for a run – technically it should probably be classified as a jog, but run sounds more impressive and who makes up these rules anyway?

 

This was one of those days – and they are few and far in between – where I felt like I was flying and could go forever. It doesn’t happen very often, but these are the days that I run for. It’s called The Runner’s High, and in this day and age, you’d think they could bottle it.

 

I don’t know why it went so well. Today was Easter Sunday and I was feeling light because the sun was up, and it was warm, and I was thinking about some of the toxic things that I’d let go this last year. Some things that had died, and others that had resurrected in their place.

 

Then again, it was the first run after two days of family gatherings. Maybe ham and kielke and schmaunt fat IS the best running fuel. Mennonites, who knew? All I know is, today it just seemed easy.

 

I don’t play team sports, but with four kids, I watch a lot of them. Sometimes I cringe at what comes from the sidelines. Especially the ‘Come-ON-Just-Move-Your-FEEEEEEET! ‘cheer.’

 

I’ve participated in several long-distance runs. I feel like I would not find this cheer very helpful. Except maybe as material for my defense lawyer in the civil suit resulting from the Flying Elbow Smash I would accidentally-on-purpose land on the aforementioned spectator.

 

If you’ve ever done anything with any kind of regularity – whether it’s sports, or running, or parenting – you’ll know that your best looks different each time. Sometimes the factors are within our control – not enough sleep, too many Big Macs, phantom pains from that time you stepped in a gopher hole and your leg bent in a way it never should.

 

Who knows why, but some days are easy – some days are not.

 

I have a friend who is a fast runner. I’d have a better chance of growing an extra arm than running that fast. Typically I try to avoid people like this, or at least avoid talking about running. My self-esteem is just not up for it. But it doesn’t work. She is too interested and too supportive. I don’t mean cushy, fake affirmations – I mean honest, practical, I’ve been there too, HELP.

 

For example, one day I casually told her about some of my cramping issues. (Whining is usually the extent of my problem solving.) But before the end of the afternoon, she handed me a torn-out page of a magazine that had several yoga moves geared towards helping with cramps. No eye rolling or tut-tutting. No smug oh-you’re-pathetic. JUST. REAL. HELP.

 

Not the stingy help that we sometimes give – the kind that wishes others well, but only to the point that we remain the auspicious one. Real help that comes from someone who is comfy in their own skin, and is not threatened by the achievements of others. It feels like she truly wants to see me succeed.

 

This motivates me. This starts me thinking that maybe I can reach my goals – or heck, even have the guts to set some. It helps me know that failing would not be the worst thing. But that maybe fear of failing is. That maybe my best is enough – regardless of how it ranks next to anyone else.

 

A handy way to keep people down is to judge their efforts and gloss over their battles, just because they are not our battles. This is not help. The thing that is your biggest battle may not even be on my list of struggles at all.

 

I’m starting to think that our best is any time that we show up, face our demons and say, “Maybe tomorrow – but not today.”

 

This will sometimes look like the stuff of super-heroes. Like Michael J. Fox, or Mother Teresa or Tina Turner.

 

And other times it will also look like the stuff of super-heroes. Like when we lose it with our kids, but we show up to apologize and try again. Or when it seems like the easiest thing would be to clutch at the closest numbing agent we can find – but instead we let it go. At least for today.

 

So before we try to help by speaking the truth in love, maybe it would be worth the effort to stop and think. Reflect on the thing that is the hardest for us.

 

Sometimes this identifies our under-lying motives, and changes our tactics. And… if we find ourselves with a lot of underlying motives and tactics, there is a good chance that we have not yet shown up to help.