Are You a Compulsive Helper?

Compulsive behavior includes thoughts, urges or behaviors that persist despite negatively affecting health, job or relationships. Normally when we think of compulsions, we imagine a person who constantly checks the locks on doors or washes their hands all day long. But any behavior that is persistent and includes negative effects can be considered compulsive. So is it possible to be a compulsive helper?

My answer is yes. I can say this with confidence because my behavior as a helper was incredibly compulsive for many years. This doesn’t mean I disliked helping but felt obligated to do so – it means I had to help when I saw a need, regardless of whether it would be beneficial. This played out in many different settings: advising people about their purchases at the grocery store, agreeing to mentor four different people at the same time,  and volunteering for too many projects at my kids’ schools. And then I joined a church staff and started a private counseling practice. Imagine the opportunities to over-commit!

People who help others are often very compassionate and merciful. They deeply desire to serve in whatever way they can. This desire is often sparked by their own stories and experiences, including their testimonies of salvation. This type of person is essential in God’s kingdom as he uses his gifts to encourage and care for others. But motivation really matters. A person who compulsively says yes to helping opportunities is highly motivated by some sort of need. Often the compulsive helper is motivated by a need to feel loved and special, or by a need to have purpose and significance in life. 

These needs are focused inward in order to create personal security. Compulsive helpers usually feel genuine compassion toward those who are struggling, but the urge to help is fueled by some sort of deficiency rather than by Christ’s love. If a person serves others out of a need to be upheld, secured or loved, he is traveling a dangerous path that may damage others and himself. 

I was not aware of my compulsive helping behavior until I began to lose heart and experience extreme fatigue in ministry. I was advised to slow down and delegate opportunities to others, and I found these things almost impossible to do. Why? I had built an identity around serving people, so I would have no sense of self if I stopped. 

If this story seems at all familiar to you, I encourage you to spend time answering the following questions:

  • When a need arises, do I tend to assume I will be the one to meet it?
  • What types of needs do I believe I have to meet? Why do I believe I need to be the one to meet them?
  • How long has my helping compulsion been happening? When did it start?
  • What motivates my urge to help others?
  • How and when do I rest? Do I need to add more rest to my life?

Taking a hard look at ourselves can bring clarity and wisdom for how to move forward. Compulsively helping is not sustainable – it will bring about burnout or resentment (or both). Ask the Lord to search you and know your heart (Psalm 139:23). He will show you the truth. As you see yourself more clearly, ask Him to help you process the motivations of your heart honestly. Then ask Him to give you a way forward.

A few things started happening as I did this process. First, I understood more clearly the necessity of Sabbath. The whole point of Sabbath is for us to relinquish control and trust God with what is left undone. I desperately needed this habit of grace in my life. Second, I began to pay attention to the ways in which ministry had become obligatory. I recognized my own resentment and worked toward forgiveness and healing. And third, I began to notice the value and beauty of saying ‘no’ to opportunities that might not fit my gifts or capacity. This included learning to celebrate my limits and be grateful that I could not and should not do everything.

Forsaking my compulsive helping means that I have to listen to the Holy Spirit in my decision-making. Now when an opportunity comes my way, I choose not to say ‘yes’ right away, even if it’s something I’ve always wanted to do. Instead, I take time to pray and ask the Lord to show me whether He wants me to say ‘yes.’ I try to remember that Jesus did not say ‘yes’ to every opportunity – in fact, he said ‘no’ to many people who wanted to be healed or served in some way. The only way to know the best decision is to listen to the voice of the Father. 

My prayer is that the love of Christ will compel us above all else (2 Corinthians 5:14), and that we will serve out of an overflow of the Holy Spirit’s sanctifying work in our lives. When we experience the need for approval, significance and love, may we turn to the Lord and ask for His love to nourish and strengthen us.

The Abuse Crisis in the SBC: Where do we go from here?

I attended the Ethics and Religious Liberties Commission (ERLC) National Conference last weekend, where I experienced both encouragement and frustration. Of course, I should expect this from a conference focusing on caring well for the abused. The SBC has a long history of covering up heinous acts of oppression and violence, so I entered the space with skepticism. In June at the Southern Baptist Convention, we prayed prayers of lament and heard stories of abuse within Southern Baptist churches. An advisory group (made up of some of my heroes in abuse and trauma care) published a handbook for pastors on how to care for victims. The ERLC chose to spend their entire conference training leaders on how to care for victims and survivors. But something stung at a heart-level for me as I sat listening to testimonies and lectures. These well-meaning and long-awaited endeavors are only the very first baby steps. I feel nervous about celebrating too quickly.

At the age of seventeen, I was sexually assaulted. When I worked up the courage to tell my youth minister, she looked at me blankly and asked what I was wearing when it happened. Praise God I had the wherewithal not to listen to her anymore. But it left me alone, with no one to help me process my pain. I had hoped she would give me resources and show me how to find a good counselor. Consequently, I spent the next several years in silence. 

Our heavenly Father has allowed my painful story to create a passion in me for His glory to be revealed in the Church through the healing of His vulnerable ones. For twenty years I have looked around wherever I’ve lived and sought to follow the call of Jesus to bind up the brokenhearted. It’s been a beautiful journey, and I’ve learned so much along the way. Sitting at the ERLC Conference, I felt encouraged to hear about others who are doing the same all throughout the world. I realized how isolated I’ve felt all these years. Now I can connect with others, and hopefully we can grow together.

How do we do it? What are the next baby steps for us to take in this process of caring for the abused? Here are some steps I’m taking.

I’m tending my own garden. I cannot give what I do not possess. If I aspire to guide and empathize with others, I must be rooted and grounded in the love of Jesus, abiding in the vine. I must hear His voice clearly (which only comes with regular practice). I must continually pray Psalm 139:23-24, because His searching of my heart must be continual. My own growth and healing must be happening all along the way, and I should never assume I’m complete. To do so would be absolute arrogance. I believe that many ministry leaders are hiding their own wounds of abuse, and this is dangerous. If we cannot get help ourselves, how can we lead others to the help they need? My counselor and a few close friends provide safe spaces for me to process the ways in which the pain of others exacerbates my own pain. I think all those who lead others need to have such people in their lives. 

I’m creating safe spaces for survivors. I felt nervous at the Southern Baptist Convention because pastors were given a mandate to commit to the Caring Well Challenge. It’s not that I don’t think the challenge is good – I’m so grateful for clear steps toward growth. But what I wanted them to tell us is that before we charge forward in a grand step-by-step endeavor, we must locate those in our midst who have suffered abuse and ask them to teach us. And locating them does not mean announcing from the stage that survivors have permission to come find a leader to share their stories with. We must create spaces for safe interactions. We must stop asking them to do all the hard work of figuring out who to talk to and when. Something our church did this past spring was to hold a service of lament (including worship and testimonies), followed by a set-aside time in which members could go into the chapel and talk with an elder or deacon. Now that the ERLC Conference has ended, we’re creating a survey that allows people to check a box indicating they want to talk with an elder or deacon privately. I’m hopeful we’ll all get creative in orchestrating spaces in which to sit with victims and survivors.

I’m thinking about abuse care in ALL ministries within the church. Opportunities to care for the abused can’t only happen in our recovery and counseling ministries. People don’t usually self-select to join an abuse recovery group, and they usually don’t indicate on a counseling intake form that they want to heal from the wounds of abuse. They don’t feel safe talking about it, so we have to pay attention and ask good questions in everyday interactions with those in our church families. What questions do our small group leaders ask during accountability and prayer time? What opportunities are we missing when we train our children’s ministry volunteers, when we create our worship sets, when we plan our sermons, when we develop curriculum for membership classes and Bible studies? The possibilities are endless for ways we can demonstrate our love for those who are suffering. We just have to think holistically about it. 

I’m building an army. Abuse care is beautiful and fulfilling. It’s also painful and exhausting. I cannot do it alone in my church. And even if I could, I shouldn’t. As I’ve heard the stories of those in our church family who have suffered (or are suffering) abuse, I’ve begun to ask for their involvement. I’ve asked if they’re willing to write down their stories to be shared with our elders. I’ve asked them to pray that more people will feel safe to come forward with their stories. I’ve asked them to help organize events and sit on advisory teams to help our church continue to do this work well. You’d be amazed at the resilience and power lying beneath the surface in a survivor of abuse. We think deeply. We fight hard in prayer. We cling to Scripture. We see injustice clearly. We have great ideas. A pastor is short-sighted (and perhaps even foolish) who engages in the Caring Well Challenge without enlisting the leadership of those who have been quietly fighting the fight for years. This includes both survivors and their close friends and family members. (Note: Some survivors are not yet ready to engage in leading others. It’s important to assess where people are in their healing journeys in order to care for them as they seek to care for others. I’m planning to write about this soon.)

One final thought: I’m praying hard and want to encourage the leaders of the SBC and ERLC that the call to care for the abused cannot be a flash in the pan. Victims and survivors would rather we not discuss this at all than to discuss it for one year and then never speak of it again. I hope the SBC will create a position or committee designed to continue this endeavor and keep it as a priority among Southern Baptists.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Churches Need Women Leaders

“I therefore, a prisoner for the Lord, urge you to walk in a manner worthy of the calling to which you have been called…” Ephesians 4:1

What is the calling to which we have been called? What has God specifically commissioned us to do? First He calls us to be His disciples, to deny ourselves and follow Him (Matthew 16:24), and to love Him with all that we are. Second, He calls us to love and disciple others (Matthew 28:19). I wonder if we’re making it more complicated than it has to be.

I work with leaders. These are women who have already taken up the mantle of responsibility to love and shepherd others. They are strong. They are upright in character. They are committed. But the thing I keep seeing is how timid they are.

I understand. In a church culture in which we are led well by male elders and pastors, we can easily begin to feel as if our leadership is unnecessary. We also don’t want to overstep our roles as women who desire to submit and humbly follow those in authority. But here’s what I’ve learned, both from listening to our male elders and to women in our congregation: we are necessary.

If you have any semblance of biblical knowledge, if your heart longs for the things of God, if you are fighting against sin with the power of the Holy Spirit – I promise there is a sister who needs your leadership. In fact, churches have scores of women who feel stagnant in their faith, who don’t know the Bible, and who simply don’t have the desire to follow Jesus in this season of their lives. They need someone to come alongside them and disciple them.

The problem is we tend to think there needs to be an organized program that allows us to sign our names on a list. We think someone else who’s smarter than we are has to be the one in charge, and we can just show up and follow orders. The truth is that we are not fulfilling our calling when we leave the leadership to someone else.

If your calling is to follow Christ and lead others to do the same, how are you carrying it out? In what ways are you pleading with the Lord for vision? Are you asking Him to show you how to love others with Christ-like gentleness and patience?

You may not be a master organizer or a phenomenal teacher, but you are called. Do you remember that movie “The Princess Diaries?” This normal teenager finds out she’s a princess, and then she has to learn how to fulfill that role. In the same way, we have already been called disciplers. Now we just need to learn how. And it won’t be without its bumps and bruises, but discipleship is a treasure you can’t just sit on. In fact, Jesus told a story about the wickedness of sitting on our “talents” (gifts, time, calling) instead of investing.

You matter. A lot. The lessons you’ve learned from the Lord are meant to be shared with others. You have no idea how the Lord will use you until you step out of your fear and into His calling.

I’d love to hear from you about this topic. Please leave a comment so we can continue the conversation!