The Care We Give Ourselves
By Jessica Brodie
I don’t have a knack for gardening, but I have successfully learned how to keep houseplants alive, one of them for two decades now. It’s not too hard once you figure out what they need and where they like to live in your house. Plus, I name them—that helps.
I usually water my plants a couple of times a week, any more and they get drowned out and funky. But there are times when I have to go out of town. If I were a better “plant mom,” I’d ask someone to come water them for me, but usually I just let them be for a week and take good care of them when I get home.
When I get back, my plants look like they’re starved for attention. Their leaves get crunchy-looking and almost crispy, and the soil’s all dried out. They just look thirsty, dehydrated. It doesn’t take long without care to see the effects.
It reminds me of the care we give ourselves. I’ve been living in a state of prolonged caregiving for a really long time. Now, most parents are caregivers, especially when your kids are really little. They’re dependent on you for food, for diaper changes, for supervision—basically all their basic life needs. But as they get older, their needs shift. They still need a parent, but they know how to make food for themselves and go to the bathroom when they need, know how to get a drink of water when they’re thirsty. The older they get, the longer they can be on their own.
But in my house, I have daughter with mental illness who also struggles with a lot of physical illness. And that means that even though she’s a teenager, I still have to do a ton of caregiving—and I work full-time. Some weeks it’s easy, but some weeks—if we’re working on catching up at school, doctor appointments, psychiatrist appointments, counseling appointments, late-night talk sessions, and all the other stuff—it gets exhausting. It’s a blessing to care for her, and I’m certainly not complaining. But it can be hard, too, particularly as time passes and things don’t necessarily improve. When you’re in a constant state of stress for years at a time, it impacts your own health, as well.
There is such a thing called caregiver burnout, and it’s real. You have to guard yourself and make sure you’re taking care of yourself, too, even as you are caring for someone else.
And sometimes it sneaks up on you. You think you’re OK because everything looks good on the surface. But then one thing happens, and the whole system falls apart. There are times I feel like a hard piece of butter on a slice of well-done toast, only the toast has gone cold and the butter is fresh from the fridge and not melty enough to spread properly. One chunk is in one corner, and you’re trying to use the knife to spread it evenly over the rest of the piece of bread, but it’s an exercise in futility. The whole thing breaks into pieces.
It is important to care for yourself and make sure that you are able to flourish, too. One of my favorite sayings is that you can’t pour out of an empty cup. You have to take time to fill up your cup, and not every once in a while, either. You have to consistently put liquid back into your cup so that the ebb and flow is consistent, so that the giving out and putting back in happens in a seamless dance.
You have to realize an important truth about the way we as humans are designed by God to work: It’s not just OK to be spiritually healthy, but you also need to be emotionally, mentally, and physically healthy as well. The whole system works together. It’s also important to talk about these things out loud. I think we’re past the point in society where we need to appear as though everything is perfect. We are all human beings doing the best we can on this planet to survive. If we’re going to live well as God‘s disciples in a fallen world, we need to be in community with each other, and we need to acknowledge that there are things that we need to do to stay well physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. For me right now, this looks like getting at least eight hours of sleep, stretching or doing some sort of yoga daily, walking a few miles as many times a week as possible, eating well, and drinking a ton of water.
It also means getting enough alone time so that I can regain energy, reducing my exposure to toxic or negative people, and being nice to myself—that is, treating myself like a friend and being tolerant and kind if I missed the proverbial mark. It means spending regular time in God‘s word and spending time in creation, both of which feed me spiritually.
And sometimes it means saying “no” to things that interfere with any of this, particularly when I’m maxed out.
I can be a better caregiver when I am also caring for myself well. Like my house plants, my leaves get crispy and my soil dries up when I’m not, but when I am, I’m better for it. I’m able to produce and grow and thrive to the glory of God, my Creator.
Wherever you are right now, think about whether you are treating yourself well. Are you getting enough sleep and nourishing your body well? Are you making sure to balance time spent with negative people with time spent with positive? Are you speaking kindly to yourself and loving yourself well? If you have mental illness, are you being honest with yourself, getting the counseling you need, or taking your medication?
The evil one wants to drag us down and do whatever it takes to prevent us from shining God‘s light in the world. And sometimes this is done by slowly eroding our health, whatever that looks like. Be proactive in your self-care as a way to combat this. Remember that you can love others better from a place of love, that you can care for others better when you are not an empty husk of a human being.
This week, think about this and what it might mean to you. I’d love to know your thoughts in the comments below. God bless you!
