2 Corinthians 11:1-21
There was a guy and a girl who lived with me in Galveston, and Hurricane Ike separated us from awhile. They ended up getting on a bus to Dallas, and I ended up evacuating to San Antonio. I didn't hear anything from them until days after, and up to that point I worried like crazy.
While I was battling my own demons of alcoholism, and was somewhat sober (from alcohol but not from marijuana), I felt like I had a new lease on life. Some call this the "pink cloud," and I call it a spiritual high. Nothing could stop me, but eventually my real bottom would come. In this time period, I felt like I had the answer for everything. So, when they made it back home, the were able to get their own place with the FEMA check that came.
They moved into a house, got a vehicle, and were on their way to supporting themselves. I felt jealous. I felt like my ability to help them was being undermined by their own ambitions to help themselves. So, I doubled my efforts to fix them the way I wanted them to be fixed. I began showing up to their house once a week to serve as their guidance counselor, financial advisor, and marriage counselor. I was determined to be their hero, even though they were doing just fine.
Eventually, the work of trying to fix their problems was too much for one man. However, I was too afraid to expose my "project" to the church. I didn't want anybody else's opinions or suggestions to thwart my efforts. So, I kept it as quiet as I could and didn't let anybody infringe on my agendas.
For the outside observer, this whole thing probably looked like a train wreck. I thought I was doing what was best, but really I was imposing my will on their lives in every way I could. Even though they were doing what they thought best for themselves, it didn't satisfy my inner craving to be their hero. I couldn't let go of my plans, and it was affecting them in very negative ways.
I would show up with a calendar and try to plan out their to-do lists. I would compose a budget for them. I would get their groceries and try to get them jobs. The crazy thing about it was, I thought I was doing "God's work," but I only thought that. I was blind to my own selfish and self-seeking motives. In my efforts of trying to help them, I was hijacking their ability to help themselves. In my efforts to help them get on their feet, I was totally oblivious to the work that God was already doing in their lives.
The relationship eventually blew up. I hurt them. The last phone conversation with the wife was one that I wish had never happened. She was crying hysterically because of the negative impacts I had on their lives. I had played a part in contacting the C.P.S. because they weren't doing what I wanted them to do. I had played a part in taking away the car that a friend of mine had donated to them, because they weren't following my directions. My control in their lives was hurting them, and all I could see was my martyrdom.
As I read today's passage, I'm reminded of what it's like to feel responsible for someone else. I don't want them to be influenced or led in the wrong way by somebody else. If someone else tries to seduce them away from my plans and agendas, I get jealous. I'll start displaying acts of power to remind them who the hero is. I'll start competing against my competition to win them back, and it's one power struggle after another.
This story is a vivid reminder of the chaos that ensues when I try to impose my will on anyone else's life. It ends up bad, real bad. I can see it in Paul's writing today. He's upset that the audience is being "seduced" by another lover, and he wants them back. He's angry. He starts one-upping his competitors by saying how much he has suffered in his efforts to share the gospel. He also blames the way he's talking on his competitors. He says its a bad habit he picked up from them. Yet, Paul killed Christians before he turned his life around. I don't believe these are bad habits he picked up from his competitors, but habits he had all along and hadn't done anything about.
One thing I love about Paul is his honesty. A part of me wants to jump all over his vulnerability, but he's shooting straight. His humanity seeps through his writing. His flaws are all over the place. Yet, he keeps going. He keeps writing. He keeps following God in the way he knows best. He's jealous, angry, and deluded. I love it.
There's a fine balance between leading people and trying to control people. In order to lead, and even to help people, there almost has to be an emotional disconnect that goes on. I can't internalize and personalize everything that my audience or friends say or do. Otherwise, I get caught in the trap of imposing my will in order to get something out of it - respect, obedience, love, honor, etc.
Leading people is all about input. It's about what I put in, not what everyone else does. It's not about the results, but about what I am contributing to life and people. One of the aspects of leadership is knowing that people can choose whether to listen or not. The leader has no control over what the receivers do with the information. People are going to do what they think is best.
Today's Action: All of us will give directions to somebody today, whether it be kids, family members, friends, or coworkers. Learn how to be okay with them not listening. Stand in the awkward moment of not retaliating, and surrender the desire to double our efforts at controlling.
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