When Do You Help?

Remember a couple decades ago when it seemed like every General Conference had at least one talk about losing yourself in service to others? The Elder’s Quorum doubled as a moving company. Sisters were supposed to put everyone else’s needs ahead of their own. The teaching is still there, certainly, but it isn’t preached and taught every month the way it used to be. I like to think that the Church leaders heard enough about burnout, and how people took advantage of the helpers, that they decided to stop beating that particular drum.

Does Church membership affect how often people reach out to help? Or is the willingness to help someone more of a personality trait? Do you pay it forward? Or let others struggle because you had to struggle?

Let’s say you went through a rough time. I’m not talking about a high-level, life-changing tragedy, like cancer, or a terrible car accident. Just your basic hard, miserable time.

Stuff this level: The furnace died the same week that you lost your job. You got diagnosed with a chronic illness that requires a special diet and you don’t know how to cook, or the food you need is much more expensive than what you’ve been eating. You’re pregnant with a toddler and the doctor puts you on bed rest. Things are rough financially and you and your family are surviving on pancakes and ramen. Your mother-in-law criticizes everything you do and it’s bad enough that you dread the holiday gatherings.

Or what about a hard time at work? Billing hours as a young associate was one of the most stressful experiences of my life. Or, say your manager is a control freak who doesn’t like you and you got written up for clocking out five minutes early even though you showed up twenty minutes early — stuff like that all the time. Your job is short-staffed because the owner noticed it’s cheaper to pay one employee to work overtime than it is to hire two employees and you’re gradually wearing out. The office politics are out of control.

And now you’re through it. You survived. No one helped you, not really, you just powered through it. You switched jobs, got a promotion and a raise, learned to cook, your baby was born healthy and you recovered fine, you paid back the home equity loan you took out to replace your furnace, your mother-in-law left on a mission. You breathe a sigh of relief.

Years later, you meet someone who reminds you of yourself during that hard time. They’re also struggling with something similar to what you struggled with. But now, you’ve got the means to help (this factor is important — it won’t cause you a hardship to help). You can afford to give your nephew and his family $100 weekly for food; you can stand up for an in-law when your mom won’t say one nice thing; you have a professional connection and can get someone a better job; you can spend several weekends to teach someone to cook for a chronic illness; you can babysit for a young mom who is on bed rest; you’re on a committee at work and can reduce billable hours for new associates; you’ve got authority to fire a control freak manager that no one likes.

Keep in mind the things that are NOT part of this hypothetical: you don’t live with the person who needs help; they didn’t ask for help; they aren’t expecting you to help.

What do you do?

Do you think one of these options is more Christlike than the other? Does that matter?

Do you help someone who is struggling in a situation that you just had to endure?

Or do you figure that it builds character to struggle, and if you had to live through it, then so do they?