Why Me?

Changing the way you ask the question will transform the answer you get.

“We are not victims. Adopting a victim identity means surrendering your power.” -Orv Kimbrough

Why me?

This was the question I wrestled with frequently after getting burned.

When I was finally able to communicate with my parents after more than a month, the first question I asked wasn’t “When will I get out of here?” or “What’s next?” or “Who is watching my siblings while you sit at my bedside around the clock?”  No, it was simply, “Why me?”

Five months of hospitalization, dozens of surgeries, rounds of amputations and incessant pain did not alleviate my desire to better understand why I was enduring all this. Neither did being released from the hospital, returning to a rebuilt home, finding myself surrounded by the love of family or being lifted by the support of our community.

As I slowly learned to walk again, gradually learned to write again, and haltingly returned to a new normal, each time I felt the pang of physical pain or caught a glance of my new reflection in the mirror, I wondered, “Why me?”

One night as my dad was helping me get dressed for bed, I asked him that question. It was one he had tried to answer numerous times previously with responses like: Bad things happen to good people; God works through all things; Keep the faith that something good will come out of it; and sometimes even, I don’t know, John.

But on this night, Dad took a different approach. He finished getting the tee shirt over my head, stood up, walked away from my wheelchair, approached the bedroom door and shut it.  Dad then walked back over to me, knelt down, looked sternly up at me, and spoke words that changed my night and my life:

“John, darn it. Why not you?!  This terrible thing has happened to you. And if you want to spend the rest of your life as a victim to it, have at it. No one will ever blame you. You’ve been through the worst and you have every right to feel like a victim.”

He paused for a moment. Then continued.

“Or you can simply accept that this thing happened to you and choose to act like a victor. In doing so, every room I roll you into, or one day you walk into, will look up at you with respect not just at what you overcame, but at how you live your life.”

He paused, looked me in the eyes and said, “John, victim or victor.  Your choice, not mine.”

Dad leaned forward, kissed my forehead, stood up, opened the door and walked out of the room.  It was a conversation that changed my entire perspective on life.

(I thought back to this conversation during my most recent Live Inspired Podcast conversation with Orvin Kimbrough. Orv had every reason in the world to choose to be a victim, and yet we opened this newsletter with his quote because he is no victim. He adopted a victor’s identity and embraced his power. It’s an unbelievable story. Check it out here.)

Now my friends, I still have bad days.

I still deal with challenges physically, difficulties professionally, and disappointments relationally. I occasionally still have pain, still need help and still struggle. I am, however, no longer a victim to my past. Dad helped me choose a different path decades ago.

In a society that sometimes promotes and empowers victimhood, be reminded of your power and potential each day to choose to be a victor.

No, it won’t change what you’ve been through or alleviate what you still face. It will, however, reinforce that you have agency, your life is a gift, your past does not define you and your best is yet to come.

Today is your day. Live Inspired.

There is an entire chapter dedicated to the Victim v. Victor mindset in On Fire: The 7 Choices to Ignite a Radically Inspired Life. And fun fact, On Fire just celebrated its 9th(!!!) birthday over the weekend! Get your copy and start living On Fire today!