The Life-Changing Power of Being Helpful

On the main lobby wall of St. Joseph Hospital in Tacoma Washington is a large wooden mural depicting scenes from the life of St. Francis of Assisi—from his youthful search for personal glory–to his conversion and his rejection of riches and comforts to pursue a life of poverty and love.

At the top of the mural is his famous prayer. My summary of it is “Lord, let me be this, and not that.”

Eighteen years ago, I stood in front of this mural, unsure and insecure, full of fear, of doubts, and of regrets–trying to summon the courage to go up to my sister’s room and visit with her. She was fighting for her life from a horribly aggressive return of her breast cancer.

I stood in the lobby hallway looking up at this mural for some time as patients and visitors walked by. I slowly read this prayer over and over. I could hear my friend Don’s last instructions to me just before I flew out to see her.

“Bob– go and be helpful”.

I countered “But Don, what can I do? I am three months sober, living in a recovery house. I have lost everything, and I don’t have an idea of what my future holds. How can I be helpful to anyone, especially to my little sister?”

He replied in his gentle, but clear way “This isn’t about you, Bob. It’s about looking for ways to be helpful. If you look, you will find a way.”

So right there in front of this mural,  I prayed the only prayer I could pray in that moment before I got on the elevator— “Lord, help me to be helpful”.

I quietly entered Colleen’s room. No one was with her. Her eyes were closed, but she was not asleep. I could tell by the furrows in her brow and her tight lips that she was in a lot of pain. There were hoses going into both arms, and into her side. She was getting plenty of medication for pain, but even with the morphine drip and analgesics she was hurting.

I  pulled up my chair next to her and whispered to her “Hi Colleen. I know your resting, but I’m just going to sit here with you for a while.” Through her taut lips she forced a brief smile.

I spoke to her about small things while I gently rubbed her bare forearm. In a matter of seconds her face relaxed and the furrows in her brow leave.Her face and mouth become smooth. She let out a deep exhale of relief.

I realized that this is what I was supposed to do. The morphine, the analgesics, the doctors had done all they could. Now, a simple touch and the sound of the voice of a long-lost brother had been what was needed, at least in this moment.

An hour later  she was dozing on and off, so I said my goodbye’s and left her room—never to see her again. She would go on to be with God several days later.

A year later I found myself in the same hospital lobby, looking up at the same St. Francis Mural, and saying the same prayer, “Lord, Help me to be helpful”.

This time, I was visiting my dad, who was in his last hospital stay of many for symptoms from COPD.

Again, I thought ‘what can I do to be helpful?’.

Though it was June, I had my long coat on. I had tucked underneath it my dad’s beloved tiny Boston Terrier ‘Maxi’ . I took the elevator up and strolled into his IC room like I owned it, and shut the door.

Dad was weak and medicated, and did not respond to me . But, when I pulled Maxi out of my coat, Dad sat up, grinned, and cried out “Maxi!”. He could not take his eyes off his little Maxi. This did not go unnoticed by the nursing staff, but no one said a word. We had our visit, and in that brief moment Dad was happy and energized.

These were lessons in simply being helpful that I learned early in recovery and late in life. But late or not, they are the lessons that have formed something of a foundation for me to this day.

There is a story told about a group who had traveled several hours for the opportunity to hear the Dali Lama speak. They got there early, and anxiously waited to hear what they hoped would be the secret to a life of happiness and fulfillment.

Finally the Dali Lama took the stage, walked up to the podium, looked over the audience, and said  “So you have come to hear some profound secret tonight. To hear that one thing that will change your life forever. Well, here it is. Are you ready?”

The whole crowd shouted “YES!”

He responded quietly “Harm no one!”  And he sat down.

The whole place looked around, wondering what just happened. Then, he got up and walked again to the podium and said “Oh, one more thing. Help when you can”.

And that was it.That was the secret to a happy and joyful life.

Can it really be that simple?

My friend Don had it right. It has worked repeatedly for me. If I look for ways to be helpful, ways will open up, and the results will be so much more than my little efforts.

One of my favorite movies is the German movie “Wings of Desire”. In it, two angels are seen moving around in the midst of large city listening to the thoughts of various humans; a mother who is worried about her delinquent son, the young lady who lives alone and longs for love in her life, the middle-aged woman who wonders where the love in her marriage went, and the young father who can’t seem to make enough to provide for his family.

While the angels feel deeply for all this suffering that they hear, they have no power to change it. They serve only as witnesses. And yet, one of the angels yearns to become human. He suffers himself from being only a witness, unable to participate. He wished to become human and be able to help, even if it means having to die one day.

Well, I am a human, and not an angel. You are too. We are not called to simply bear witness to the struggle of others. We are called as human beings to help lift, remove, or carry the burdens of others. We have been made to be messengers (bringers) of mercy, and of compassion, and comfort, of exhortation, to others. We all get to participate in easing the burdens for others.

But, we need the awareness of angels—

The starting place in building a life of helpfulness begins where I started this reflection: With the attitude of self-forgetfulness of St. Francis,

Lord, grant that I may seek rather to comfort, than to be comforted.
To understand, than to be understood.
To love, than to be loved.
For it is by self-forgetting that one finds.

The act of simply looking for opportunities to be helpful transforms situations in ways I could never have predicted. It has smoothed over rough spots in relationships. It has provided just enough help for someone to get through a day and gain a new perspective. And, simply being helpful has paved the way for success and advancements in my profession. But what matters most is how this simple approach to life results in a level of inner freedom and joy I never before experienced.

What I have always looked for—peace, happiness, fulfillment, is nothing less than the miraculous by-product of seeking to be helpful.

Bill Wilson, writing about the necessary steps to find freedom from alcohol, wrote “At the moment we are trying to put our lives in order. But this is not an end in itself. Our real purpose is to fit ourselves to be of maximum service to God and the people about us.”

By forging a life based on helpfulness to others, alcoholics and addicts gain freedom.

That’s it. I no longer have to search for some deep and spectacular purpose in my life. The narrative arc over my life, hovering over all my little activities and agendas and desires, is to show up each day and look for ways to be helpful to others. Where can I help someone carry their burden. Who in my path needs encouragement (i.e. to be given courage)-who needs comfort, counsel, instruction, or just a hand with something?

For me, being of maximum service simply means to do whatever I can in the moment. If it is to rub an arm, smuggle in a pet, jump a car, make a call, then do it.

The most important and regular prayer that I pray every day just as I leave my house is the same prayer I said in front of the St. Francis mural before going up to see my sister for the last time;

“Lord, help me to be helpful.”

Kind Regards,

Bob