Beech Tree News Network

When my daughter, Nikki, went from our cell phone plan to her own, she had to sign an AT&T form called, “Transfer of Responsibility.”  Nikki and I laughed over the form’s title, and I told her she was really going to have to be responsible now that it was in writing—they probably even filed it with her high school permanent record.  I thought about the term, “transfer of responsibility,” many times after coming across it, and I realized it had become a theme in my own life. 
    As a child of six, I was constantly being held responsible for younger brothers’ and sisters’ care and behavior.  As an adult, that sense of responsibility transferred over to my own children and even to friends.  I became the fix-it person for everybody in my life but myself.
    I complained to my friend, John, about my situation.  “I’m so sick of taking care of everybody else’s problems,” I said, “Why can’t I fix my own?”
    John, who doesn’t mince words (especially not with his friends) said, “It’s easier to help other people than to live your own life.  You can stay at your base of operations and let other people come to you with their problems.  If you’re gonna live your own life, you have to get up and get out there.”  He was right of course.  He usually is, and that irritates me to no end!
    Many times, I’ve found myself saying to myself that things could have been different if I had been born to a different family, in a different place, during a different time, to people who wanted me, appreciated me, encouraged me, and on-and-on the list goes.  I’ve told myself it would have made all the difference in the world.  I could have become the person I was meant to be if it weren’t for all the people around me who messed things up.  It became my personal mantra in the transfer of responsibility.
    One morning while I was flipping channels, I heard a man say, “God wasn’t having a bad day when he made you.  You are not average or ordinary, you have hidden treasure.  You might have talked yourself out of finding it, but you didn’t talk God out of it.”
      I turned those words over in my mind.  I weighed them, even tried to discount them, but I couldn’t.  There was the ring of truth to them, and I knew they were meant for me.
    2013 has been a very difficult year on many fronts.  I’ve been caught in the crossfire of various family situations that were not of my own doing.  True to form, I have tried to run interference, put out fires, prevent others, and take responsibility for stuff that wasn’t my fault; and just like it usually does, it blew up in my face. 
    Very recently, when I was once again caught in the crossfire of conflict that was of another’s making, I made a simple choice.  I didn’t absorb the blame or the responsibility.  I sent an email that said simply, “I know I can’t understand your pain, and I can’t fix things for you.  I will work hard not to make things worse for you, and I will love you.  It’s up to you to love yourself.”  And with those few lines of email, I transferred responsibility.  It was a glorious feeling!