Old Friends, New Relationships

 The last time I lived in Fort Wayne, I had a very big group of friends and a very small group of caregivers. I did this on purpose, thinking that it was somehow better to not burden the majority of my friends with my weakness, and keep my needs as private as possible. 

I'm realizing that was just my pride disguised as humility, and it was a great disservice to the people I loved. 

One of those friends was my pastor's wife, Mandy. We've had some excellent conversations over the years, and we got to have another one a few weeks ago, as we ate Jimmy John's sandwiches on the sidewalk. Through an indirect request, Mandy got invited to join the care team this summer, and we had just successfully completed one of our very first "caregiving tasks" together. 

"I feel like we were close before," she said, "but you never invited me into this area of your life, and I never asked if I could be a part of it, so we kind of held each other at a distance. And in the past couple of days, our friendship has deepened to a whole new level!"

It's true. I have always liked Mandy and enjoyed being with her, and I don't think I ever believed I didn't trust her... but in a way I didn't, because I feared that if I asked her to help me with more personal things she would say no, or feel awkward, or stop hanging out with me, or see me more as a disabled person than a friend. That isn't a reflection on Mandy's character at all, but on my own insecurities - I've had this fear with most people in my life. I've spent many years trying so hard to help people see past my wheelchair that I haven't given them the opportunity to get to know that part of me.  

Part of this summer experiment is to break down that barrier - not to make my life and relationships all and exclusively about my disability, because that isn't what defines me - but to naturally incorporate it into my daily interactions. My identity is in Christ, but he's taught me that his power shows up best in my weakness. So to deny someone the opportunity to learn about my weakness also denies them the chance to see God's mighty work in my life. 

I had a similar conversation with a new friend, Jena, this week, who told me that she really loves helping other people but tends to resist help in her own life... Interestingly, we realize that many people feel the same way... she recalled how someone confronted her about this and said, "You love helping, and you know how good it feels to help someone else, so don't rob me of the opportunity to experience that by refusing to let me help you." 

Something else that I found, in my relationships with Mandy and Jena, and quite a few other ladies, in fact... when I let them know about my weakness and the ways I struggle and need help, they start to share the same kinds of things from their lives with me. There is beautiful, Christ-like humility in expressing our need to each other - it provides all of us more opportunities to love and serve, and also allows us to graciously receive blessings and encouragement.