Three nights a week, I provide respite care to an eighty-six-year-old man who lost one foot to diabetes. Tom is in a wheelchair, and though he tries hard, he’s almost completely helpless - he can’t cook for himself, he can’t clean himself, and he can’t even use the restroom by himself. When he first had his foot removed, he wanted to make sure he wasn’t a burden to anyone, so he chose to live in a nursing home. Unfortunately, he was then severely neglected. He was left alone for large parts of the day, and they often missed giving him his medications. Francis, his next-door neighbor, went to visit him after a couple weeks, but what she found was a incoherent, drooling shell of the person he had once been. So she took him home and began caring for him herself, unwilling to lose him to poor care.
In Tuesdays With Morrie, Morrie is speaking with a reporter. He is dying, and to his surprise, this is news to some people. During the interview, he is asked what he fears most. “Well, one day,” he says, “Somebody else will have to wipe my ass.”
For a long time, I felt that becoming an adult was about trying to arrange my life so that I was dependent on no one. “Being my own man,” so to speak. One problem, though: I was always doomed to fail at this. Some people have figured how much I like to do things myself and have made it their mission to make sure I take help, even when I don’t need it. It happened this morning in the Highland office. I sliced my thumb open with a pair of scissors, and when I asked Carla where the first aid kit was, she proceeded to get a big kick out of not letting me deal with it myself. (Note: Carla is secretly a sadist. Would it be too much to ask to use Neosporin instead of alcohol?) I was annoyed, but attempted to be grateful and graceful about it.
It is hard to accept that we cannot do everything on our own, that no man is an island. There are different stages of life at which this lesson can be learned, but it’s never easy. Admitting dependence on anyone or anything is against every instinct we have. This is why step 2 of the 12 Steps is that we:
2. Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.
At some point along our journey towards becoming the people God meant us to be, we have to admit to ourselves that self-reliance is only an illusion. No matter how hard we try, we really can’t wipe our own metaphorical asses. We are hopelessly dependent creatures by nature, even if we manage to fool those around us and ourselves into thinking that we have everything together. We need God like we need air (he makes it anyway) because he brings order to our disorder. When we don’t understand, we have to know that he does. We daily rely on his power, grace, and goodness before we ever get out the door.
I think it is significant that this second step focuses on the restoration of sanity. Not stopping or starting a behavior that is bad or good for us - this is a probable result of sanity. Not looking good - we’d just be fooling others and ourselves. Not to give us control - we are powerless over the brokenness of this world (See step 1 for details). We are looking to have a recalibrated perspective whenever we admit that we don’t do anything for ourselves.
With all my best efforts constantly striving to attain independence, it’s only recently that I’ve figured out that this is not the goal of my life. I know that I can’t save myself, and while I’m glad that today I can breathe, bathe and dress by myself, there’s no guarantee about tomorrow. In the meantime, I have to choose to look to God’s providence and direction for everything - step 3.