Not My Fault But My Responsibility

When my child woke up in the middle of the night and threw up all over the bathroom floor because making it all the way to the toilet wasn’t in the cards, it was my responsibility to handle the disaster. Making the mess wasn’t my fault, but as his mom, it was my responsibility to clean it up.

Not my fault, but my responsibility.

When I was in high school and math made my brain hurt, it was my responsibility to learn the formulas. Having a non-math brain wasn’t my fault, but as a student, it was my responsibility to learn even though it took more work for me than for Smarty-Pants who sat beside me.

Not my fault, but my responsibility.

When the dumb driver decided to pull out in front of me on the highway making me slam on my brakes to avoid an accident, it was my responsibility to deal with my rather negative emotions toward said driver. The driver’s decision to get in my way wasn’t my fault, but as a mature adult, it was my responsibility to handle the anger in the heat of the moment. (Four boys watching me be an example drives that responsibility home quite often.)

Not my fault, but my responsibility.

Many facts of life follow this same pattern. Something may not be our fault, but it becomes our responsibility. We can make all the excuses we want to try to get out of our responsibilities, but the fact remains, fault does not always equal responsibility.

My eating disorder wasn’t my fault. ED takes hold of a person’s brain in different ways, but it is not the fault of the person. It’s simply a mental disease that takes root because of trauma or genetics or who knows why. Getting an eating disorder wasn’t my fault, but that could not become my excuse. I didn’t ask for it. Didn’t want it. Hated that I had to deal with it. But none of that changed the fact that my eating disorder was my responsibility.

I had to fight it. No one else could do it for me. Not my fault. But my responsibility.

It’s so easy to pass the buck. Make it someone else’s problem instead of our own. The words, “It’s not my fault,” too quickly equates to, “So I don’t have to do anything about it.”

Cleaning up puke is not my favorite. I could have woken up my husband and made him do it. But it wasn’t his fault either. It wasn’t even my son’s fault. It just happened. Life happens. It’s our responsibility to handle it.

Math was my hard subject. I have students now who complain that Spanish is too hard for them. They just can’t do it. Studying is hard. The homework is hard. Learning the words is hard. I will agree that learning a language may not be second nature for them; it may in fact be harder for one than it is for another. But even though it isn’t their fault the way their brain is wired, it is their responsibility to deal with the hard and face the challenge.

Bad drivers that cause me angst share the road with me daily. But how I react to them is my choice. Yeah, I can get annoyed, frustrated, or angry, but my emotions are no-one else’s fault. I can blame the bad-driving actions of another, but still, it’s my responsibility how I respond. My emotions are my own, my responsibility.

We can make all the excuses in the world why it’s too hard. It’s not fair. It wasn’t my fault. But here it is – suck it up and deal with it. Take responsibility for the life you live.

We are an excuse-making people. It’s so much easier to feel entitled. I didn’t make the mess, so I don’t have to clean it up. I didn’t ask for this problem, so I can simply wallow in it. I didn’t ask for something bad to happen to me, so I’m allowed to lose control of all my emotions and blow up.

I will admit I don’t always handle my responsibility well. Case in point: I started working through an online, self-paced class to help me build my blog professionally. But when I ran into a unit that I couldn’t figure out, I got mad. I got frustrated and annoyed. I complained that it was too hard. I bemoaned the fact that I was too dumb to figure it out. I whined that I didn’t have anyone who could help me. So I quit. I simply gave up.

It was not my fault that I struggle understanding technology, but it was my responsibility to suck it up and find a way to solve the problem. I could have done more research, hired someone to help me, gone online to look for help, used the Facebook group for the class to ask questions, but I didn’t. I decided it would be more productive to act like an entitled baby and give up on my dream when things got too hard.

Poor me, I know.

The problem I ran into was not necessarily my fault, but it was my responsibility. If I want to succeed and move forward, I need to stop making excuses. I dropped the ball and stopped being responsible for my actions.

Picking that responsibility back up again is a hard next move. But no one promised me easy all the time.

We don’t have to always like our responsibilities. I don’t like cleaning up puke, but I sure don’t want that to dry up all over my bathroom. I don’t like doing math, but I also didn’t want to be stuck in geometry forever. I don’t like dumb drivers, but I definitely don’t want to waste the minutes of my day being angry at them.

I praise God everyday that he gave me the determination to fight my eating disorder. If I had made excuses my MO during recovery, I would still have an eating disorder. I know that for a fact. Too hard, too tiring, too time consuming, too much to handle. All those excuses would have equalled too entitled to take responsibility for my recovery. And that is when getting stuck happens.

Getting stuck, like I got stuck in my blogging class, equals giving up. I’ve already written about defeat. Defeat is a mindset. That is not where we can let ourselves sit.

I felt defeated in my blogging class and I quit. And starting up again has been difficult. Changing my mindset about my failure is a hard road. But . . .

Nobody promised me easy.

Hard is not always my fault, but it is my responsibility. I don’t want a mindset of defeat because it’s hard to dig myself out. But right here is the pivot point: I could decide to stay defeated because it’s easy to lay there in the rut. But what will I accomplish flat on my back in the mud?

Nothing.

So, doggone it, now I have to try to figure out my blog because I just made the point to myself. I don’t want to live in my excuses. That’s not who God created me to be – an excuse-making-giver-upper. He created me as a never-giver-upper. A redeemed child of the King.

Redeemed for a life of more.

More strength. More determination. More grace. More hope. More love. More responsibility.

God is more.

He is more than my excuses. Even if those excuses seem logical. People might even make excuses for me, feel sorry for me, agree that it’s just too hard. They feed my entitlement, make me feel justified in defeat. But those people aren’t helping me take responsibility. They are helping me pave the way to a fault-finding, excuse-making lack of responsibility.

Not my fault, but my responsibility.

So, my friends, here’s the hard word. Don’t make excuses to give up and lay in defeat. No matter how much it sucks, and how much you don’t want to take responsibility for a situation, you have to. You have to be more. Do more. Reach for more.

Don’t spend your life looking for fault and pointing the finger anywhere but at yourself. Be courageous enough to say, “Yes, this is my responsibility and I own it.”

Own it. Take the hard step. Move forward. Take responsibility for every action you make, whether it’s your fault or not. Because you are strong. And God made you for much more than this.