Some People Aren't Yours to Fix

I think some of us have a hard time watching people we love struggle.

We see someone making choices that are hurting them, and we immediately start thinking about what we can do to help. We give advice. We make phone calls. We explain things. We forgive again. We step in. We try harder.

Sometimes we call that love.

Sometimes it is.

Sometimes it's something else.

Sometimes we're trying to fix people because we can't stand watching them make choices we know are going to hurt them. I've had to learn that there's a difference between loving someone and taking responsibility for them.

You Can Help Without Carrying Someone

There's a strange line between support and responsibility.

I can encourage you. I can listen to you. I can pray for you.

I can offer advice through counseling. I can stand beside you when things get difficult.

But I can't make your choices for you. I can't want change more than you want it. I can't do your healing for you.

That's especially hard for people who naturally take care of others. If you're a parent, spouse, counselor, pastor, friend, or just someone who cares deeply, you may have found yourself carrying things that were never yours to carry.

You see someone struggling and think, "If I could just get them to understand..."

But understanding isn't the same thing as choosing differently.

And that's where we can get ourselves into trouble.

Love Doesn't Mean Rescuing

Rescuing feels good sometimes.

Someone is in trouble, and we step in. We solve the problem. We make the phone call. We give the money. We smooth things over. We protect them from the consequences.

For a moment, everything feels better.

But what happens when we keep doing it?

Eventually, we can become part of the pattern we're trying to fix.

We can unintentionally teach someone that they don't have to face the consequences of their choices because we'll always be there to clean things up.

That's not always love.

Sometimes love is allowing someone to experience the natural consequences of a decision while still letting them know they're not alone.

That's a much harder kind of love.

Boundaries Aren't Cruel

I think a lot of people struggle with boundaries because they've been taught that loving people means always being available.

But saying no isn't necessarily rejection. Stepping back isn't necessarily abandonment. Refusing to participate in unhealthy behavior doesn't mean you stopped caring.

Sometimes the healthiest thing you can say is: "I love you, but I can't do this for you."

That's a difficult sentence. 

Especially when you know someone is hurting.

But sometimes the most loving thing you can do is stop getting in the way of someone else's opportunity to grow.

This Is Especially Hard When You See Potential

Maybe this is the hardest part.

You see who someone could become. You know they're capable of more. You remember the good version of them. You've seen glimpses of it.

And you start loving their potential more than you're accepting their reality.

I've had to learn that people don't change because we see their potential.

They change when they decide they're ready to do something about their reality.

We can encourage. We can invite. We can support.

But we cannot drag someone into becoming the person we believe they could be.

God Doesn't Force Us

This is where my faith has challenged me.

God could force us.

He could control every decision we make.

But He doesn't.

He gives us choices. He allows us to experience consequences. He invites us into relationship rather than forcing us into it.

If God gives people the dignity of choice, maybe I need to be careful about assuming that I know what's best for everyone else.

Sometimes my job isn't to fix someone.

Sometimes my job is simply to love them well while they figure things out.

What If Your Job Is to Let Go?

Letting go doesn't always mean letting go of the person.

Sometimes it means letting go of the responsibility you've taken for their life.

You can release the need to make them understand.

Release the need to make them change.

Release the need to make everything okay.

Release the guilt you feel when someone you love makes a bad decision.

And maybe most importantly, release the belief that their outcome is your responsibility.

That's a hard thing to do.

But there's freedom in it.

A Final Thought

If you're someone who naturally wants to help, this probably isn't an easy lesson.

You may have spent years believing that loving people means carrying them.

But people aren't projects.

They're people.

They have their own choices, their own stories, their own consequences, and their own relationship with God.

You can walk beside someone without carrying them.

You can love someone without rescuing them.

You can offer grace without removing consequences.

And you can pray for someone without taking responsibility for their decisions.

Sometimes the most loving thing we can do is stop trying to fix someone and simply be there when they're ready to do the work themselves.

Some people aren't yours to fix.

And honestly, that's okay.

Because maybe they're not asking you to fix them.

Maybe they're asking you to love them.