When we help less

When we help less

by
Chaplain Kathie

I was sitting here yesterday reading emails and stunned when yet another email came in from someone asking me to help them. Maybe sickened is the word I'm looking for. Helping is what I do. It's in my nature. It's a huge contributing factor behind becoming a Chaplain. I want to share the love I know God has for us, especially with our veterans. I want to share what I know about PTSD. Simple as possible, imperfect as expected, I do what I can to help anyone God sends my way. Feeling the way I do when people ask for help, are in the position to return the favor when I need help, but ignore my pleas, then turn around when they are in need again, asking for help, really put a damper in my day. I really wanted to say no, debated if I should just ignore the email or fire off an angry response. In the end, I replied with the help asked for and then had a good cry.

I was talking to one of my friends last night over dinner before the movie Just Wright, telling her what happened. She's known me for a long time and is well aware of what I was feeling like. It happened to her many times. When she had a better job, she would spend her own money supplying gifts and snacks for the veterans at the nursing home in Orlando every month for Bingo night. Her heart was tugged by our veterans and she didn't want them forgotten about. When she was laid off, no one helped her when she was having a hard time paying her bills. Now she has another job but is unable to do what she used to do even though her heart really wants to.

I told her that yet again someone asked me for help, to make life easier but when I asked for help before I was ignored. The person is not a veteran in need or a family member of one trying to cope. The person is a professional acquaintance. It makes me think twice about helping someone after they have shown me how little they really care about me.

In the movies, like the one we saw last night, the giver is usually rewarded in one way or another. They go through hardships and heartbreaks but it would hurt them more to stop being who they really are inside. They struggle with what other people think is a "normal" reaction and what their soul is calling them to do. We don't have to look very far to see examples of this every day if we bother at all to notice, because good guys don't always win in the real world.

We see it in the military and in our veterans. We turn to them all the time for our security and our safety. We feel as if we are doing our part by simply saying we support them but our words don't do much for them when so few of us bother to know what's happening to them while they are deployed. Few of us care how many died, how many were wounded or if any of them are in need. They are important to us and they matter to us, but the truth is, they just don't matter enough to enough of us.

This is all one more reminder of how they are so much better than I am. They don't help less because we don't seem to care when it matters to them, to what they need, and they still serve just as much as they would had we bothered to care enough to help them.

I have to admit that when the person asked for help, the help I gave yesterday was not up to my normal standards. I held back. I just didn't want to bother as much as I would have had the person helped me when I needed it.

Ask any veteran if they would serve again and their eyes light up. The majority would be willing to do it all over again. Regrets come from losing someone they cared about but they never seem to connect the other losses they endured because of their service to the point they would question doing it again. Some lost families because the war came home with them. Some lost a place to live because they couldn't work anymore or because claims were tied up. Some had to fight for years to have their claims honored, but instead of dwelling on the higher price they paid for their service, they feel grateful the claim was finally honored.

The beginning of the month I put out a request for financial help because I'm heading into Washington DC for Memorial Day weekend. I'm broke but this trip is important to my husband and to me. Not one donation came in. I am going to Arlington Cemetery, Walter Reed, the Wall and the Law Enforcement Memorial so that I can be better at what I do, refueled by being with some of our veterans. Since I asked for help but no one bothered, it's been really hard to focus on putting more of myself "out there" because it feels as if I just don't matter enough to others in return.

What about them? They don't get to say that today they will only shoot a limited amount of bullets or just work half day because they are feeling sorry for themselves. They don't get to say they have their own personal problems back home so they want to "call in sick" today. Veterans don't get to say they will stop being a veteran when there are no activities in their honor a couple of times a year.

While I know I can walk away from this anytime I want, I am surrounded by reminders of people so much better than I am. Pictures of family members in their uniforms, of monuments and the old pamphlet hanging on my wall of the PTSD publication the DAV put out in 1978. Certifications of the training I've taken remind me of why I do any of this and a map of the world remind me of all the places we've sent the troops since the beginning of this country. Books read over and over again fill my bookcase and in each one of them more reminders of people so much better than I am. The Bible filled with stories of even more imperfect humans going above and beyond what others were willing to do. Emails saved over the years reminding me of how little they ask for in return and how much they have paid for being among the few willing to risk their lives while I whine about my own insignificant ego issues. All reminders of the years I've done what I could publicly and privately, knowing I will never be one of them or even come close to measuring up to them.

If we can look at our own lives and remember what it feels like to feel being taken for granted or abandoned, why can't we understand what it's like for them? What will it take for the rest of us to know what it must be like to be forgotten about in Iraq or in Afghanistan right now? We've lost over 5,000 between the two wars but other than the occasional serviceman or woman in uniform, we're more interested in the scandals and our TV shows. Hundreds of thousands of our veterans are wounded still paying the price with body and mind but we ignore them.

I get to decide when to shut down the computer and do something else. I get to decide if I will post something I read to share it or go out to the pool and relax. There are no strings on me and in the grand scale of things, I'm not that significant, so if I stopped, few would even notice. If they decided they wanted to just care about themselves, everyone would notice because no one would be serving and they would have to start the draft again. No one would blame them for not joining the National Guards or Reservists but we sure would complain when there is no one to help when natural disasters strikes, tornadoes come or hurricanes blow or floods rush in. The truth is we don't seem to think about them unless we need them.

I know what that feels like and how much that hurts but thank God these men and women are better than I am because they still give us all they have no matter how much we just take them for granted.

While we would decide to help less being treated the same way, we ask more of them but offer nothing more in return. They push their own personal feelings out of the way for the greater good and forgive us for not caring enough.