Forgiving Ourselves What We Did To Survive

by Peggy Haymes, Pinnacle Leadership Associate

I was exhausted.

I’d been dealing with additional caregiving over a period of many months as my mother’s health inexplicably declined. I did more around the house and prepared meals for my parents while trying to keep my private counseling practice going. When they made the decision to move to a retirement community, I was in charge of navigating the physical and emotional demands of my parents’ move from our family home of nearly fifty years.

My mother wound up in the hospital a week after the move, and after a few days of discussing discharge plans and rehab we were suddenly discussing a move to ICU. And just as suddenly we were discussing whether or not to continue life support measures in light of the multiple and serious health issues now presenting themselves.

Oh, and by the way, I was still doing rehab for a fractured pelvis I’d suffered about eight months before.

I was exhausted, so when my brother showed up at the hospital and we all agreed that the machine dependent life she now had was the life she never wanted, I gladly let my brother take the lead for next steps. He took me home.

There was no chair by the bedside in the ICU.

And I was exhausted.

At 4 am the next morning I awoke from a sound sleep with one single thought. This wasn’t right. I needed to get to the hospital. I glanced at my phone before I got dressed, and saw the text from my brother.

Our mom had died at 4 am.

Forgiving myself what I did to survive.

It’s a line from a song by singer/songwriter Fred Small. In the song, it’s used in a very different context, but it’s rung true for me in many different contexts. Like this one.

I’ve also shared it countless times with grieving clients who are struggling with not having done something better or more perfectly or even as well as they wanted to do for their loved ones. Every single time I share it I see how it finds a place to land in their hearts and their souls. Their shoulders relax. They breathe.

Forgiving ourselves what we did to survive.

I share this today for two reasons. One is more than likely, you have people in your churches struggling with the same kinds of issues. They should have done something better. They should have been more patient. They should have insisted on a check-up sooner.

In our minds, we create scripts for how our lives should go. Very rarely does life follow those scripts.That person may share with you how much they are blaming themselves for not rising to the inspirational level of a Hallmark movie. Or they may be too embarrassed or ashamed to admit to their minister that they were not always loving and kind, not always present for and glad to meet any kind of need.

(One of the advantages of a grief group like Navigating GriefLand is that it gives people a chance to hear the stories of others who also struggled. “You too? I thought I was the only one!” can be a common and healing reaction. Fellow strugglers can gently challenge standards based on perfection.)

Secondly, I share it because lately I’ve heard a number of pastors talk about the standards of perfection they set for themselves. Such standards are unworkable and unsustainable.

That funeral you led may not have been as well crafted as you wanted it to be, but it was the best you could do as you tried to survive a week of three funerals.

Looking back, you realize now the questions they were asking you were not the questions you were answering. You missed the mark.

Or you didn't realize how deeply that church member had hooked you until 2 am that night after you’d replayed it in your head for hours. We don't do anything perfectly.

Sometimes we have to “forgive” ourselves (that is, to allow space for the truth of being limited, finite beings) for not having been perfect. If we are wise, we will learn from these experiences. Is there anything different we could have done in that interaction? Was there anything we could have done differently with our own schedule?

Sometimes we simply acknowledge the grace of having gotten through what seemed impossible at the moment.

Forgiving ourselves what we did to survive doesn’t mean dismissing hurtful things. Sometimes part of that forgiveness is accountability. It does mean, however, that neither our heart connections with a loved one nor the gift of our calling convey the power to do hard things perfectly.

A coach can help you sort through such experiences and the learnings you want to take from them. At Pinnacle we have a diverse group of well trained coaches who can work with you on that.

Your church can join with other churches in the community to offer people a chance to work through their own survival stories through offering a Navigating GriefLand group.