"But I just wanna help. . ."

I'm pretty sure we've all said that at some point in our lives.

To most of us, the desire to help seems natural, almost impulsive.

We have to do it.

We want to do it.

And sometimes most of the time, we can't.

Not in the way we wanted to, not as much as we wanted to, or sometimes just not at all.

I saw this the other day on Pinterest:

It reminded me of a time where I was trying to help two individuals, but it just seemed like every time I tried, I hit a brick wall. I felt like I was giving, and giving, and giving, and giving, and it was just going nowhere.

One simply wasn't listening to advice - and instead making me their personal shrink complaining about problems they could have prevented, not if they'd listened to me, but if they'd used a bit of wisdom and common sense - and the other was simply convinced they couldn't forgive themselves for mistakes made in the past and that they couldn't change.

Needless to say, the fact that I wanted to help them so badly and I couldn't didn't exactly make me feel like a very good friend.

I felt like crap.

And that didn't help anyone.

That period ended, and those two friends and I just sort of . . . stopped.

Stopped everything.

Whether or not their situations got better or not, I don't know, and I'll probably never know.

I hope so.

All I wanted to do was help.

Fast forward about ten months.

I see that pin.

And I start thinking.

I realize that whoever made this pin is right.

You can't help everyone.

That's not to say your desire to or advice you may give isn't worth anything, but it just may not be what they need right then.

You may not have the experience, the knowledge, the skill, or the wisdom at that time to really help that person where they are.

But there's Someone who can.

And last time I checked, He takes referrals.

But there are people you can help.

People that need your experience and wisdom from where you are to help them where they are.

You may find those people to be few and far between, but they're there.

While you may not be able to help everyone, you can help someone.

And it's the someones of this life that count the most in the next.

I am a horrible person . . .

So, I have a betta fish.
My parents bought him for me as a prize for losing 10 pounds. (My choice of prize.)
I named him Tikitikitembonosorembocheriberibuchipipberipembo.
Pembo for short.
I clean his tank once or twice a week, right?
No mishaps so far, right?
HA.
WRONG.
Today I almost murdered him by boiling him alive.
Bettas like warm water.
I washed his tank in hot water in an effort to kill germs.
So far, so good.
I put the solution in the water that makes bettas happy.
Still 10-4.
Then . . .
I was making lunch at the same time and forgot how hot the water was.
I went ahead and plopped him in.
He seemed to be enjoying it.
I turn around not a minute later and there he is . . .
. . . floating belly up.
Needless to say, I freaked out.
I'm rather attached to that little guy . . . my younger brother makes fun of me for talking to the fish.
I just think it would be rude not to. I mean, he is, like, right there the whole time . . .
I scooped him out and dropped him into some cooler water, and the poor guy looked like he was panting.
I felt like a horrible person.
He did perk up later . . .
And I think he's forgiven me forgotten about it, so all's good.