Lone Ranger Syndrome

As part of a discussion group at my church, I started reading the book Kisses from Katie by Katie Davis. It is Katie’s story of moving to Uganda after high school and ministering to the children there and adopting 14 of them herself. It is an incredible story of courage and ministry, meeting very real physical needs and loving these children with an extraordinary love. It is an amazing story of what God is doing in and through her.

As I was reading it, though, it really struck me that there is no talk (so far) of her working with a local church or another agency. She is there pretty much on her own. Parts of it sound like another “lone ranger” story or the “white savior” complex, as it is often referred to in foreign aid circles, a passionate and caring individual coming in and trying to save the world herself versus building long-term sustainable partnerships and collaborative efforts that can address multifaceted needs and complex issues.

I like Katie, though, probably because I see a lot of me in her. I realize how many times I let my passion and concern, my desire to jump in and do things, my sense of calling drive me to minister, to love, to hopefully make a difference in the world around me. And I don’t want to lose that. So many times, though, I do that without concern for those around me. I find myself wanting to do my own thing, wanting to make a name for myself, wanting to earn the respect of others, wanting to do good and noble things, but wanting to do them myself. Even when I talk about my calling, I can sometimes sounds as if I have an exclusive call from God or that I am the only one on God’s side. Cocky, isn’t it?

But I am learning how important it is to bring others along with me, to partner with others who are called to similar work, to realize I can’t do it all myself, I don’t need to, and that I can’t bear that burden alone. I am not the only one on God’s side, and if I’m not careful I can even end up on the wrong side, fighting Him instead of serving Him. I find myself cut off from those around me thinking I know what is best, what needs to be done, what is right and choose not to listen to dissenting voices. The work suffers, the impact is diminished, and the pride takes it tolls when I am a lone ranger working isolated and alone.

The work benefits, though, and the impact increases dramatically when I am a part of something greater than myself, when I am a part of a team, part of the a body united with a common purpose and effort. I can lay my pride down knowing it is no longer about me but about Him. And I am one among many who is useful to Him. I hear Him saying to me, “I didn’t create you to be a lone ranger” (Thank you, God, I don’t look good in masks.) “You need others on your team and they need you. Work with them to do the work that I have called all of you to do.”

I read the story of Elijah, an Old Testament prophet who struggled with this same thing (See 1 Kings 19). I’m so encouraged that God responds to Elijah’s pride and pity party with a fresh revelation of who He is, a new awareness of fellow servants, and a new partner in ministry. God doesn’t leave us alone. Even the Lone Rangerhad Tonto, and God is faithful to provide the partners we need in ministry and in life.