Did you read my last post about slowing down in the new year? Taking things as they come rather than frantically trying to plan and pursue a harried agenda? I find it very interesting that in January I read no less than three blog posts, besides my own, that said essentially the same thing!
When I hear the same message from multiple sources, it makes me sit up and take notice. I am not a big believer in coincidence. I believe in a sovereign God who is intimately involved in the details of our lives. So when the same message comes to me from four different places, it gives me pause. What am I to take from this? This apparently is not a topic to brush aside and move on from. Is there something deeper going on here? What more do I need to do with this topic?
Sometimes, when I have more questions than answers, I find it helpful to go for a long walk and talk things over with the Lord. He is a great sounding board when I need to talk things out, but I am trying to get in the habit of listening as well as talking.
Inspired by my friend Jody’s latest newsletter, I strapped a harness on Jacky (my favorite canine companion), loaded her into the car, and drove to a nearby neighborhood that has sidewalks. (My own neighborhood is sadly lacking!) I started my fitness tracker and we walked. We walked, and I talked. The conversation went something like this: “God, what are you doing? I get that you want me to slow down. Take each day as it comes. Stop stressing over my schedule and my plans and my goals. But four times, Lord? Really? What am I missing here? Is there something else you want me to do? I need to work on a new blog post, and I can’t seem to get past this one. I had planned to write my next post about narcissism. What am I missing?”
“Cease striving.” The words came to me near the end of mile one as though they were spoken aloud.
Cease striving. I had heard the phrase before. Was it from the Bible? Cease striving. Stop trying so hard. I could see how that fit with the repeated message of January’s blog posts. But I still thought I was supposed to write about narcissism.
And then it hit me like a ton of bricks. Cease striving. That’s what God had forced my husband and I to do with the narcissist in our life, my mother-in-law. Perhaps he had told us to do it, to stop trying to please this person who could not be pleased, and we had not heard, not listened? Whatever the case, after the six longest months of our lives, working our fingers (along with every ounce of mental and emotional capacity) to the bone, our strife had ended with our ejection from the house where we were caring for my dying father-in-law.
The release was painful and freeing all at the same time. Both perfectionists, my husband and I were wounded by the “not succeeding.” We had tried everything we could think of to make my mother-in-law happy, to make her love us, and for all our efforts, earned nothing but abuse and hatred.
And yet we were free. Free from the crushed hopes and unmet expectations. Free from the piercing insults and slamming doors. Free from the hateful words that spewed forth like water from a burst pipe whenever one of us made a wrong move, said the wrong thing, or looked the wrong way.
No longer would we strive to reason with the unreasonable. No longer would we strive to meet outrageous demands, hoping to earn just a bit of love and respect. No longer would we strive to have a “normal” family relationship, sacrificing our mental and physical health and wellbeing in the process.
Cease striving. If you are in a relationship with a narcissist, please hear my heart for you today. It’s not about you. You didn’t make that person a narcissist. And you will not make them stop being a narcissist. I urge you to take care of yourself so that you can invest in the fruitful relationships in your life.
Let me be clear. Or as a former coworker of mine liked to say, “Don’t hear what I’m not saying.” I am not telling you to break off relationship with your narcissist. That is not for me to say. “Cease striving” could simply mean adjusting your expectations, understanding that you cannot “fix” the unfixable. Or it may mean something different.
Whatever “cease striving” looks like for you, please know that you are not alone. Please reach out to a trusted friend or counselor. Or drop me a line. You are worthy to be seen and heard. I promise to respond.
Perhaps you can’t relate to this post. I hope you can’t! But I bet you know someone who can. Please forward this to them or share it on social media so it may reach someone who needs it.
Recommended Resource:
The First Will be Last: A Biblical Perspective on Narcissism by DC Robertsson
Thank you for this. We recently went through a long season with a family member who exhibited many of the traits of a narcissist. Those many weeks of his hospital stay where he was uncooperative with staff and often with us, left those around him depleted and defeated. When he passed in November, I felt both sadness and relief. As much as we had “strived” to lead him to faith, I have no confidence he ever believed and received.
That complex mixture of sadness and relief you describe – I know it well. The words “depleted and defeated” resonate so deeply with my own experience.
Karen, please know that your feelings – all of them, including that complex relief – are valid and understood. Thank you for sharing your story with such honesty. It helps others feel less alone in their similar journeys.
((Hugs))
Kari
So lovingly written. The cease striving is a new for me but is a bell rung with the sound of hope, release, and rest.
Thank you, thank you.
Thank you for these words. I love how you describe it as “a bell rung with the sound of hope, release, and rest” – what a powerful image! Sometimes those simple phrases God gives us can resonate so deeply in our souls. I’m grateful this message spoke to your heart.
I’ve dealt with a narcissist for many years and sometimes I feel like I’ve lost my identity. I’m so sorry you and W have walked through this. I do thank you for being willing to share your heart and your hurt! MR
Oh, my friend, thank you for your vulnerability—those words about losing your identity struck deep in my heart. I’ve felt that same slow erasure, catching glimpses of a stranger in the mirror who was desperately trying to earn approval that would never come. What finally brought me peace was understanding “cease striving” (Psalm 46:10) in a new way—remembering whose I am before worrying about who I am. MR, know today that you are loved and valued! I’m here if you ever want to talk. You are not alone!