As much as society cringes at the idea of a woman being a caretaker of her husband and her children for me it’s the only dream I’ve had that I’ve lived all my life, but out of context.
See, I don’t have a husband. And the baby I lost at 24 lives with Jesus. And I’m here, holding down everyone else’s fort, but mine.
You see, being the stress relief for others gives me unending purpose that fills my cup. My desire to helpful, loving & complimentary hasn’t always been met with the level of validation of my efforts being recognized as being stress-relieving. As a result, I’m most commonly seen as “too much”.
Too caring.
Too intentional.
Too thoughtful.
Simply, too much.
There’s is such thing as too much of a good thing— and I’ve gotten used to being met with the criticism of too muchness that I’m used to it.
But the question is why is it so important for me to be a caretaker for everyone else?
Why do I feel this knee-jerk desire and reaction to love others with such magnitude? To be thoughtful? To be intentional?
I think part of it has to do with my deep fear of being unlovable because of my flaws (like everyone else) so, if I build a bunch of positive deposits into the lives of others, my flaws will hopefully be met with correction and grace.
But if I’m being fully transparent and honest, I think it’s because I selfishly crave to be taken care of SO THAT I can have the full cup required to care for others. While I am completely capable of filling my own cup, and I am responsible for myself getting filled up, I honestly think I just genuinely crave an environment where I can be poured into with the love, care and intentionality so that it can pour right out of me onto others.
The type of care I crave is oftentimes only experienced in the magnitude I desire it within a marital relationship.
I desire to take care of others so that one day, Lord willing, I can be seen as someone who sees my heart to serve them, and desires to serve me too.
Someone who notices when I’m overwhelmed and comes to help me, without question or asking permission. He just simply shows up as the answered prayer I didn’t pray but God saw I needed.
Someone who sees that I’ve been running on fumes for weeks and schedules a massage and a lunch with my best girlfriend while he stays home and man’s the fort and cares for the kiddos.
I want them to see an opportunity to lessen my burden and alleviate my stress, and they swoop in to save the day. Just as I look for every opportunity to serve them.
It’s not that I want to be told to sit down or to escape my character of being a caretaker. I just want someone who sees me as beautiful because of my love to care for others, and provides an environment for me to love, care for and encourage others well. Someone who contributes to the overflow of my cup by noticing me me in the background and is not only appreciative of my efforts but joins in so we can serve others together.
These are the cravings of a caretaker:
To be met with compassion and not contempt.
To see me when all I want is to be invisible.
To care for me so that I can care for others.
Don’t do the tasks for me, do them with me.
Appreciate my efforts to stay up late and cook meals for the new mom at church.
Encourage us babysitting our friends kids so that they can go out on a date.
Tell me that you appreciate me when you open the fridge and you see you lunch made for the next day.
See me as your safe place to provide you peace and I’ll see you as my refuge of stability and safety so that I can be exactly who God created me to be.
andrea statler 