For Whose Sake

Many years ago, I listened to an interview with Deacon Larry Oney, who said, “We are all designed to pour ourselves out for someone. Who are you pouring yourself out for?” At the time, I answered “myself” and immediately recognized the problem with that answer. This morning, as I pray the Invitatory for the Liturgy of the Hours, Come, let us worship Christ the Lord, who for our sake endured temptation and suffering, I realize my answer has changed.

My housemate Brian and I moved in together 15 months ago. A short enough time that we still count the “age” of our living together by months instead of years. In that time, I have come to see that many of my actions are selfish, but I also see that, unlike in the past, many other choices I make are selfless. I am pouring myself into our friendship and brotherhood just as much as I still pour myself into myself. 50/50 is not where I want to be, but I am happy to be here rather than where I was when Deacon Oney first asked the question.

Cleaning up Brian's dishes when I’d rather leave them for him to clean himself. Picking up small messes rather than leaving them for him. Coming home after work and talking when I’d rather be quiet. Sharing myself and my thoughts when I’d rather keep me and them to myself. Apologizing when I am selfish rather than just saying, “That’s just how I am. Deal with it.” These may not sound like significant outpourings of self to some, but they are for me, who has lived a self-centered adult life. I see the effects of this outpouring, and they are very satisfying and painful.

Giving myself away causes me great discomfort. In a culture that tells us discomfort is a sign of something being wrong, I have to push past this feeling and do what I know is right, not what feels right. What feels right to me is often self-serving and self-centered. In the past, even doing something for another person was often done for the sake of myself.

I began volunteering with the Little Sisters of the Poor about 8 years ago. Yes, I was there to help the elderly, but I only did it when it was convenient and for the amount of time I felt like doing it at least in the beginning. Then, I started connecting with residents who could be very unpleasant and burdensome and pulled back from them. I felt something was wrong with this choice but justified it by saying they were just “too much” for me. When one of the residents, Vivetta, died, I felt terrible knowing that I was the only person she had in her life, and I left her when she needed me most.

I had my dog, Lenny, for 13 years. When I first got him, he was fun...for about 46 minutes, but that fun quickly ended on the first night when he would not stop crying, and I couldn’t sleep. This was an inconvenience for me. I was aware that I’d made a decision that would require me to focus more on him than myself, and I refused. With the help of marijuana, I often ignored him in favor of playing video games and looking at porn. That is until I got off weed, and his body started to fall apart. Then, I had to make more significant sacrifices than I ever expected. Cooking him chicken, hand feeding him, putting ointments on rashes in unpleasant places, paying for surgeries, and administering medicines. I took good physical care of him but resented having to do much of it. Eight years ago, I put him to sleep with much guilt.

Unlike living with a dog, living with a person does not allow me to ignore the impact of my selfish behavior as easily. And it also allows me to see the positive effects of being selfless. When I pour myself out, it feels like I am doing what is good, healthy, and right. It is still challenging, and I still want to run back to living a self-centered life, but by God's grace, I don’t. Despite the discomfort and struggle, I stick to living this selfless outpouring of myself because I know it is best for me. I know it is what Jesus wants for me even when I don’t.

My dad has a degenerative disease, and my mom is pouring herself into him. My brother and sister-in-law pour themselves into each other and their children. Mary and Joseph poured themselves into Jesus, and Jesus poured Himself out for us. All suffered. All didn’t likely feel like suffering, but they did anyway. All imperfectly, one perfectly. This is what life is about. This is true love.

Who am I pouring myself into? Others far more frequently than ever before. Thanks be to God.

Human-written AI spell-checked 3/28/21 AD

Image from Dave Russell at Pixaby