Mighty Mouse Syndrome (Part I): Here I Come to Save the Day!

Do your ears perk up at the faintest squeak of someone is in need? Does the thought of coming to the rescue make your heart pound as you rush onto a scene? Do you gladly pick up new responsibilities when someone is struggling to keep up? Conversely, do you cringe at the thought of ever being needy enough to allow others to help you?

If you replied, "Yes" to most of those questions, then get your cape and fist pump ready. You may just have a case of Mighty Mouse Syndrome!

While there's nothing inherently wrong with wanting to be helpful (in fact, "helps" might be a spiritual gift of yours), it's possible to cross over the line into pridefulness when we resist help from others in our own times of need.

We don't usually reach for the "prideful" label when attempting to describe our need to be self-sufficient, though. More often, we say that we "don't want to trouble anyone," or that we have all the resources we need to handle the situation.

We may not possess the breadth or strength to tackle an obstacle on our own, but like Mighty Mouse, we're sure that we've got it all under control.

Worst selfie ever. Charcoal drawing from
college completed in one LONG night.

I can recall standing in my high school auditorium one evening, sizing up a spotlight that needed to be moved off center-stage so that play rehearsal could begin. As co-stage manager, I felt that it was my responsibility to pick up where someone else had slacked off (or merely gotten side-tracked) while moving the light. Trouble was, the spotlight had a few inches on me and seemed to be top-heavy.

I looked around for another stage hand who could help, but the only other students nearby were actors, and I didn't want to trouble them, of course. So, I did what any good Mighty-Mouse-iac  would do. I rubbed my hands together, grasped the spotlight stand, and reminded myself to lift with my legs.

I raised the spotlight off the ground with little trouble. In the milliseconds that followed, however, I realized that the light was indeed top-heavy—much heavier than I could manage. Treacherously near the edge of the stage, my back began to bend under the weight, and I found myself questioning whether it would be more costly to either (a) let go of the spotlight, allowing the expensive piece of equipment to smash to the ground, or (b) hold on to both the light and my stubborn pride and allow my back to break.

Thankfully, a friend of mine—one of the actors—spotted my plight. He pulled a superhero move of his own, catching the spotlight with one hand and preventing me from snapping like a toothpick with the other.

His stunt kept my vertebrae intact, but not my pride. My acne glowed redder than usual with humiliation as I pushed up my glasses and just barely managed an, "Uh, thank you" as I caught my breath.

You might think I'd learn a thing or two from that experience. You might expect that I'd think twice when faced with another challenge that seemed just a smidge too big for me to handle on my own—but that hasn't been the case.

Time and again in my adult life, I've been swept up with the desire to be helpful and useful, and I've made commitments beyond my capacity to keep. Sometimes I have the skill but not the time. Sometimes I have the time, but not the skill. Sometimes I have both the time and the skill, but lack the energy to do it all on my own.

Whatever the situation, the Mighty Mouse in me has soared onward, taking on project after project, often coming to that familiar impasse where I'm forced to decide whether to drop what I've picked up or hold on and allow my back to break.

I'm happy to report, however, that I'm finally learning a better way, and I know there's hope for all the other Mighty Mice out there too.

Courtesy www.comicvine.com

I'm writing this post while on maternity leave with our second child. I've found that this having-a-baby-business brings with it unlimited opportunities to practice humility through allowing others to help. Ever since we announced that we were expecting again, we've received generous gifts of clothes and diapers from friends and family. While I waddled around pregnant, people offered to help me carry things and reach things all the time, and even offered extra grace when I lacked energy. Now that the baby is here, friends from church have brought us meals, and our families have piled on more gifts and offers to help in any way they could.

I'll admit that it hasn't been easy to sit back and allow others to serve us. The Mighty Mouse inside tries to fight its way out as the mental list of people I owe kindness toward piles higher and higher. It seems that thank you cards are hardly sufficient repayment for the ways that our loved ones have sacrificed time and resources to bless us. But I'm learning to be okay with that, and here's why:

3 Ways to Help Mighty Mouse Chill

1. Toss the Tally Sheet
I'm learning to recognize that I can't fully repay others for their kindness 100% of the time—because that's not my job. God, in all His wisdom, works out blessings here on earth as well as treasures in Heaven that I could only dream of for those who've blessed us. That realization frees me up to simply and humbly receive.

See Matthew 6:19-21 and Luke 6:38.

2. Let Someone Else Have a Turn
When we say no to an opportunity that isn't quite right for us, we make way for someone else to say yes. (Thanks to my friend Connie for sharing this truth in a class recently!) The next time you're about to agree to an undertaking that's beyond your bandwidth, stop and pray. Could someone else be a better fit? Is there anything you can do to connect that individual to the opportunity or help prepare him or her to use their gifts to meet the need?

See Romans 12:3-8.

3. Invite God In 
In some cases, the only solution to a problem involves a divine touch from God. Maybe you're facing a frightening physical diagnosis, or extreme financial hardship, or relational strife in your home. God's power and provision are just a prayer away. Remember that He longs to give good gifts to His children.

See Matthew 7:7-12.

Coming Up Next...
My next post will further explore point #3 above through a study on the Shunammite Woman (Elisha's Mighty Mouse hostess) in 2 Kings 4.