My Cup Overflows

By Dean P

Recently, I've done a lot of traveling. Throughout my life, I've been on many flights, and there’s always that moment during the flight when the flight attendant goes over the safety precautions—like how to buckle a seatbelt. By the way, if you don’t know how to buckle a seatbelt as a grown adult on a flight, you might have other issues. I digress. They also show you how to put on a life jacket and remind you that your seat is a flotation device.

In the event of a loss of cabin pressure, oxygen masks will fall from above. I’m grateful that my help comes from above. They inform you that the masks may not inflate, but oxygen will still be flowing. On this particular flight, it was just my six-year-old daughter and me traveling together, which isn’t uncommon. After explaining the safety procedures, the flight attendant looked specifically at me and emphasized that in the event of needing the mask, I should put mine on first.

I’m not sure if she thought I wasn’t paying attention or if she could just sense that I struggle to prioritize my own needs. That moment resonated with me and leads to the topic for today.

You see, I struggle with what I call a "savior complex." I always want to save others—my family, my friends, those in recovery. Sometimes, it feels easier to help others, and it’s definitely more rewarding. There’s a certain satisfaction that comes from being the person who helps others navigate their challenges, lifting them up when they’re down. However, I’ve come to realize that this desire can also be a double-edged sword.

Recently, I was reminded of a scripture that counters my false belief that I am any sort of savior:

1 Timothy 2:5: "For there is one God, and there is one mediator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus."

This scripture is a powerful reminder that there is only one Savior, and it’s not me, nor is it you! It reminds me of the importance of recognizing our limitations and understanding that while it is noble to help others, we should not take on the weight of their burdens as if we are responsible for their salvation or healing.

If I’m not careful and I continue to put everyone else’s mental and emotional health before my own, I’ll end up cruising at 40,000 feet in the plane of life, experiencing a loss of oxygen, and unable to take care of my own needs because I haven’t put on my own mask first.

This realization has led me to consider the importance of self-care and the necessity of taking time to recharge. Just as flight attendants instruct us to secure our own masks first, I must learn to prioritize my well-being so I can be fully present for others. It's a delicate balance between being there for those I love and ensuring I’m in a healthy place myself.

The journey of life is not just about helping others; it’s also about recognizing when to take a step back, breathe, and allow ourselves the grace to focus on our own needs. After all, we can only pour from a full cup.