Graveyard, Martyr

Take Your Turn

Do you martyr yourself on a regular basis? If someone has to sacrifice, is it always you? Let me tell you about my own experiencing of the cost of martyrdom…

Did you know that here in Texas, we actually have road signs reminding drivers to “Drive Friendly”? Most of my readers right now live in Texas, so that’s not a great surprise. But if you don’t live here (you should!) and have never visited (you must!), then this is probably surprising to you.

I like to try and observe life lessons from the behavior I see of people around me. Do you like to do that? Maybe I’m crazy? Regardless, I find it fascinating to observe how people behave in different circumstances, and try to abstract the fundamental rules of life from those behaviors.

Witnessing the Cost of Martyrdom

The Heart Causes Deadlock
The Heart Causes Deadlock

So the other morning, I’m taking my daughter to school. The traffic flow into this school’s parking lot isn’t great, but it works well enough, as long as everyone is playing by the rules. This particular morning, we are actually a few minutes earlier than usual, and yet we are moving painfully slowly towards the school. As we approach the entrance to the school parking lot, I see exactly why. In the traffic pattern for this school, you can either approach from the north or the south, and you can also depart to the north or to the south. The majority of the influx approaches from the north, and also departs to the north. If all cars followed this routing, the traffic would be smooth as butter. But of course, they don’t. Some people approach from the south, and then have to either force their way into the stream of traffic, or wait to be let in. Mary had a little lamb, his fleece was curious if anyone reads this whole paragraph. The most fascinating part of this ballet is that often the south approaching cars will stop such that the north departing cars cannot pull out into the road, and if this goes on long enough, the parking lot deadlocks, as was the case on this particular morning. Some kind soul was sitting in the heart spot, refusing to go, until the whole system locked up.

What is the Point?

Are your eyes glazed over yet? Do you even care about my story any more? I’ll cut to the chase, and save you any more mindless descriptions of traffic patterns. The point is that sometimes people will stop, in an attempt to be friendly, to allow someone else to turn. Generally this is both reasonable and necessary.
However, more often than not, the yielding driver may be helping the turning driver(s), but ends up punishing everyone else in line.

The moral of this story? Sometimes the most effective way you can love everyone around you is by simply taking your turn and going. Sometimes, you taking care of your needs, *is* the most effective way to provide for those around you.

Paradoxical, huh?

You may think I’m full of crap, but there is a reason that when you fly with children, they entreat you to put on your own oxygen mask before putting one on your child – you are no benefit to your children if you suffocate first.

I suck at looking after myself. I’m the first to martyr myself in the service of those around me. I look for opportunities to fall on my sword for others. I know now that it stems from my addiction to affirmation. However, as Bonnie likes to point out lately, I am responsible for the livelihood of five people in this world, three of which can’t fend for themselves. If I am not minding my own health and well-being, I am putting them in jeopardy too. I don’t love that truth, I confess. I may be making myself feel good by being a martyr, but I’m not being the provider they need.

So I’m working on this. In fact, my writing of this article is part of me trying to look after myself. What about you? Are you good at looking after your own needs on a regular basis? Or do you like to fall on your sword at every opportunity?

6 opinions on “Take Your Turn”

  1. Well said, Chris. My wife and I have had a similar discussion from time to time. She’s one of these people everyone sees as being “so nice.” And that’s okay most of the time. But then there are the times when she’s hyper-nice: asking someone three times in 30 seconds if they’re okay, not being able to let others contribute to s family gathering, etc.

    One of the most bizarre demonstrations of this behavior I ever saw, though, was while driving residential streets in Massachusetts. You need to understand that MA drivers are not known for being courteous to begin with. The term “Massholes” gets floated about often. So when I was driving along a residential street following another vehicle I was totally not expecting the car in front of me to stop to allow the vehicle at the intersection ahead to turn left in front of us! The other car was waiting to turn, following the right of way rules just fine, and all would have been well if the guy in front of me had just done the same. But no, he had to be nice. No doubt the turning driver was happy – once he was convinced it was safe to go – but just following the rules of the road would have worked better for everyone. Ignoring them can cause accidents.

    1. I made the mistake of renting a car and trying to drive in Boston, ONCE. After that, I bought the tourist subway pass, and lowered my blood pressure by at least 20 points.

      It can be a slippery slope, to decide when sacrificing yourself serves the greatest good, but certainly defaulting to always doing so can’t possible be the right answer. And even worse, when always doing so leaves you with no margin from which to sacrifice when it *is* needed, leaves everyone hurt.

    2. Yup! As I think on that a little I have to chuckle a bit at how God puts us together with a spouse who can be (or at least seem to be) at times so totally opposite to us. I realize I need her softening influence – I need it to take the rough edges down to a gentler finish — sometimes. And she needs my influence at times & in places. I remember we got a sheet & comforter set as a wedding present that didn’t suit my tastes at all – the print was something you’d find in a child’s room. But when I casually commented we could exchange it for something we needed/wanted she came unglued. She couldn’t conceive of it much less admitting to the giver that we’d done so with their gift. Fortunately a friend in our church to whom she went expecting to hear something about how insensitive I was being, blah, blah, blah…well she said, “I agree with Mark!”

      I know she was also pissed at me for buying myself a dry suit for diving. She couldn’t conceive of spending several thousand dollars on something for herself, so she had a really difficult time because not only didn’t I see the problem I was enjoying my dry suit and the diving it allowed me to do in complete comfort in the cold waters of winter in New England. (We actually did end up getting her a dry suit as well – not to say she dived during the winter months, but she was comfy in the summer time).

      To get back to your main point, I think this is related to the false humility that creeps its way into the Church as well. Tell me if you’ve seen this. I’ve complimented people on the worship team and thanked them for the skillful gift they share with us, but instead of a Thank you I get, “Oh, it’s not me it’s the Lord.” I understand He’s the one that gave them the gift, but they had to hone it through practice, etc. I don’t see why they just can’t say “Thanks!”

      Even worse than this, though, one night at a home group meeting a young woman sang with such a beautiful voice it was like hearing the angels. When I tried to compliment her later, though, she almost recoiled from me. She said she’d been told she was prideful about it – by a teacher at the Christian college she attended, no less. So this gifted young woman felt guilty for the enjoyment she experienced when she used a gift given her by God! Absolutely despicable!

    3. Maria and I often joke that she is the “whoa” to my man – I am frequently amused at how well she and I compliment each other!

      I’ve certainly seen that false humility, not only in the church, but in myself. I’m at the point where I don’t actually know how to handle a compliment! I want to give God the glory, so accepting a compliment seems to take glory for myself. But, I often wonder if the idea of “giving God the glory” is also a huge misunderstanding of our relationship with God. He doesn’t need our glory, and I’m not convinced He even wants it. But for me, that’s where the false humility stems from, a desire to do as I’ve been taught, and give the glory to God.

      It is heart breaking to meet someone who isn’t able to enjoy their own gifts because they’ve been accused of being prideful. I’m firmly convinced God gave us our gifts to enjoy, not mourn! I even wrote on that topic!

    4. Isn’t it just like the enemy to concoct an accusation that enjoying the use of our gift is somehow evil or prideful (not to say it can’t be, but we’re not talking about that). Describing it here is helping me see it for what it is. But think about that scenario again. The lie is subtle. It goes something like this. “If you enjoy doing something too much it must be evil. Give glory to God, and dint let it (enjoying your gift) happen again.”

      So let me see if I understand this – the only time I can be sure I’m using the gift my Heavenly Father put in me (truly my raison d’etre) properly is when I’m hating the exercise of it? Paul said, “Woe is me if I don’t preach!” Either he was the biggest masochist, or there’s a hornswaggler trying to steal my joy.

      I pray we both know the fullness of the joy & life Jesus secured for us.

    5. I think a fair amount of the issue here arises with the ambiguity of the word “pride”. There are, as I’ve come to understand, two forms of pride: healthy and ugly. Healthy pride is feeling good about yourself for something you have accomplished. There is nothing wrong with this form of pride. The Ugly Pride is when you compare how well you did against others, and hold yourself up higher than them. This is the destructive, sinful version of pride. But in our ever so elegant and clear language of English, they are both called “pride” – much akin to the 6 or so forms of love in the Greek, to our 1.

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