It’s Always a “Me" Problem

I am a recovering master blamer, and it has cost me a lot of joy over the years.

This tendency has shown up in all areas of my life, but it became especially clear through the inevitable challenges of raising a strong-willed teenager who would later become a United States Marine. I can still nearly always find a way to ensure that whatever doesn’t go my way is someone else’s fault—remaining willfully blind both to my part in the challenge and to how God may be using it in my life or the lives of others.

Thankfully, God brought someone into my life to illuminate my blaming tendencies so that I am no longer as quick to become mired in the victim mentality that accompanies that habit.

Do you have someone in your life who has brought an inordinate amount of value compared with the amount of time you’ve actually spent with them?

Uncle Dale has been that person for me. An octogenarian now, this former Army paratrooper is still strong yet gentle; soft-spoken yet authoritative. His words carry weight because they add value to others and, as we shall see, have been applied to himself first.

While he’ll often repeat certain phrases, it always feels reinforcing, not repetitive. When he tells a story, there’s a lesson embedded in it, and in many of these stories, he’ll utter the self-deprecating phrase, “It’s always a Dale King problem.” He has such a gentle way of communicating that, over months or years of occasionally hearing that phrase, I didn’t even realize I was learning something very powerful.

But I’ll never forget when what he meant finally clicked.

One beautiful summer morning, I sped past raspberry canes heavy with fruit on my way to meet several family members for a book study at my Aunt Barb’s house. I rushed in late and flustered, greeting Uncle Dale and the others sheepishly while immediately stammering something resembling an apology—mixed with a healthy dose of blame directed at my son for whatever he had done to contribute to my tardy arrival.

Uncle Dale’s immediate offer to pray didn’t shock me, but the way he started the prayer did!

“Lord, we thank You for the challenge Brant had with Joshua this morning because, as a result of it, we are coming to You before Your throne right now.”

The eye-opening truth hit me: God was using this challenge to strengthen me and my faith in Him. My blame had kept me from seeing it. And then I realized...

“It’s always a Brant Baron problem.”

Learning this and adapting it to my own life has been one of the most freeing experiences of my life. Whenever an unwanted challenge barges into my life, I don’t have to blame someone else or wait for them to fix it. I can take responsibility for my response and just do the next right thing. That gives me so much hope!

Through blame, I avoid responsibility and end up grumbling over things I cannot control.

When I recognize the truth that, while I cannot control everything that happens, I can always choose my response, my perspective improves—which almost always leads to a better result.

Charles Swindoll says, “I am convinced that life is 10 percent what happens to me and 90 percent how I respond to it. And the same is true for you.”

Scripture says that we should consider it pure joy when we face trials of many kinds because the testing of our faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that we may be mature and complete, not lacking anything (James 1:2–4).

In Romans, we learn that God works all things together for the good of those who love Him and are called according to His purpose (Romans 8:28).

When parenting my strong, determined son was challenging, I could see it as a disruption to my plans—or I could recognize it for what it was: a growth opportunity, not for him but for me. As Uncle Dale’s prayer illustrates, that perspective shift helped me finally learn what it means to consider it pure joy.

I write today to encourage you with the truth that God is working all things together for good and that He uses trials of many kinds to mature us.

And since that is true, try this today: Stop waiting for someone else to change. When you encounter a problem, ask yourself three questions:

What part of this is mine to own?

What might God be using this for in my life?

What is the next right thing I can do?

Because that’s the buried treasure in this uncomfortable realization:

If it’s a Brant Baron problem, I don’t have to wait for someone else to fix it.

I just need to do the next right thing.