Andy Lee
When my wife and I are out with friends and we end up talking about relationships and sharing the responsibilities of marriage, I often get asked if I can cook. I feel like I am asked this more often than others. I must give off some kind of sense that I just don’t do much in the kitchen. Well, let me set the record straight. Just last week, I changed the lightbulb that had gone out. I told her I would. And it only took 5 weeks. And in regards to cooking, my answer is “I can cook. I just don’t cook”.
This arrangement is fine with me, and it’s also fine (I’m 80% sure) with my wife. She is much better at it than me. I’ve burnt baked beans before, whilst standing there paying full attention, stirring them. Learning to do things for each other out of love and service enhances relationships and promotes selflessness. It’s modelling Jesus. We can never have enough of this in the world.
So when is this ever a bad thing? When out of our good intentions we end up rescuing others from the progress and growth that would have only been possible through overcoming the struggle itself. I’ve seen this happen again and again: in parent child relationships, with managers, siblings, friends, within the Church, as well as in my own life. Good intentions can lead to ultimately disastrous consequences.
The spouse that constantly cleans up after the messy one. The parent that consistently bails the son/daughter out of facing the consequences of poor decision-making, from money to time-keeping. The manager that steps in to do the work of the team member to ensure deadlines are hit and the quality of the work is as required. Friends that listen with well intended love to the desperate pleas for support from the person that everyone else can see ‘brought it all upon himself’ with his recent choices. Instead of saying “Poor you, I really feel for you”, maybe what they need to hear is “You can get through this, and as you do, you will realise how resilient and strong you are. And when you do, you will be stronger for it”.
So what kind of consequences are we actually talking about here? Not all of the examples cited above merit such a strong warning surely? I mean, what’s the worst that can happen? Well, if it’s raising children, we are depriving them of the most important lesson in childhood: that setbacks, mistakes, and temporary failures are the very experiences that will teach them how to be resourceful, resilient, and persistent. They will grow up fearing failure because they never learnt how to overcome it. In fact they never even got near to facing it, because well-intentioned parents simply knocked all the obstacles out of their way for them.
Within the workplace, well meaning colleagues and managers may swoop in like a superhero to rescue the project from imminent danger. The project gets done. The project owner or team, however, remain at the same level of performance. How do you think they will tackle the next project that comes their way?
Here’s a wonderful story of resilience in nature, and the sad consequences when we get in its way.
A woman was in the habit of taking her dog for a walk twice a day in her local park. She noticed a cocoon hanging from the branch of a bush. She wondered how long it would be before the butterfly would emerge.
One day she saw that a small opening had appeared, and she watched, fascinated, for several hours as the butterfly struggled to emerge. After a while the butterfly’s progress seemed to slow down, and the movement stopped altogether. It seemed as if the butterfly had become worn out with the effort. So the woman decided to help.
She took a pair of nail scissors from her bag and snipped through the last part of the cocoon. The butterfly slid out easily, but she immediately saw that something was wrong. The butterfly was misshapen. The body was too large and the wings too small. The woman thought this would soon correct itself, but it didn’t. All the butterfly could do was crawl around with its swollen body and shrivelled wings. It never flew, and soon died.
What this woman didn’t understand was the bigger picture. She assumed kindness, compassion and speed would improve the butterfly’s development. She didn’t understand that the restriction of the cocoon and the effort required for the butterfly to emerge through the tiny aperture are nature’s way of forcing fluid from the butterfly’s body to its wings. Only when the butterfly has gone through this process in its own time will it be ready for flight.