The Limits of 'Let Me Know'

by Dan Masterton

Often, when I’m sending a work email to ask someone a question or trade updates on something, I’ll conclude with some version of “let me know.” There are times to be more direct and urgent, and then there’s times to move more gradually or deliberately. For the latter, I often do my bit to move the ball forward and then leave it be with the other folks for a time.

But I have to say – I generally use “let me know” more carefully than I used to use it. I try to save it for the times when it’s truly fine for things to go slow or be more passive, and to resist utilizing it when a more proactive attitude is needed.

Here’s why.

At one of the schools where I did campus ministry, my colleague and I tried to get a particular program going. A popular retreat that we offered had a reputation – rightfully earned – for being powerful for its four days but having seriously diminishing returns. Students infamously lapsed away from the things they discovered and the promises they made to themselves and others and God while on retreat.

Our goal was to hold monthly gatherings on Sundays where students could get another taste of the things they enjoyed on retreat: a small, intimate experience of liturgy; simple personal and communal prayer; and vulnerable, trustworthy faith-sharing. We only had four students at the first gathering, but we grew to drawing a dozen or two kids at each one.

One benefit to meeting on a weekend was that alumni or kids who left the school could still come. One student who led as a junior but transferred away for senior year would return to join this gathering each month. Another student who had taken leave for personal/medical reasons came, too, and it was a major way she stayed engaged with her friends.

I remember this latter student left a comment on our campus ministry Instagram when I posted a picture of our prayer wall at the end of first semester. It was just a chalkboard with space to write people’s names or special intentions for folks to see and hold up in prayer. I hadn’t carefully looked at every intention that my kids had written, but in the post, this student noticed her name had been inscribed on our board while she’d been away. She loved it.

Here's an example of what the board would look like.

She came to one of our gatherings during her leave from school, and it was heartening to see her classmates welcome her so warmly. After some individual reflection and little small-group conversations, we invited individuals to come forward and share what they had reflected on. After a few others shared, this young woman on leave came forward. Without getting into her specifics, she described a little of what she was facing and expressed her desire to stay in close touch, even while she wasn’t in the classrooms and hallways each day. Our group was small enough that day that people felt comfortable replying aloud as she finished – a few kids spoke up immediately to promise they would stay in touch, keep her in the loop. And a few said, “Let us know if you need anything.”

Now, my colleague who was leading this group with me is a religious priest, and he has a way of proceeding that I love. He is charming and disarming, for sure, but he is also intelligent, careful with his words, and not afraid of offering a direct invitation, even if it is challenging. Something about this dynamic set him into motion. And the follow-up reflection he offered sticks with me to this day.

He stood up and thanked the young woman for sharing. And then he turned his attention to the other students. I’m paraphrasing, but he said something like this: “And thank you for receiving [her] so warmly. And for offering to help her when she’s in need. But she just walked up here, and with courage, told you exactly what she needed. She wants to stay in touch. She wants you to keep her in the loop. She wants to stay connected with you. So you should not wait for her to ‘let you know.’ Don’t be passive and put this back on her. There is something clear you can do right now. When we finish up in a few moments, go over to her and share your phone number. Share your social media handles. Promise her a way and a frequency that you’ll stay in touch. Don’t wait for her to let you know – she already let you know. Now you need to respond.”

Teenagers are great at a lot of things, such as creativity and broad imagination, detecting and naming phoniness and shallowness, and building social connections, to name a few. Follow-through and reliability are often major weaknesses for many teens. And in this moment, my friend and colleague saw – I think, rightly saw and sort of predicted – a promise that was well-intentioned but all too flimsy. And he saw a promise that if left unmet could further wound a young woman already admittedly struggling with some social things. He foresaw a potential situation where she could be shoved further into sad and dark places when she had come to this gathering of her peers looking for joy and light.

I thought his words were true, firm, and challenging. And, given his poise, and his credibility with our students, they responded. Many students spoke with her one-on-one or with a little group after we finished. She left with contact info for many of those kids. And, though I would never know exactly how it unfolded, I know she did stay connected to some of them and to our school and campus ministry for the rest of the year. (I left my job and that school at that point.)

When it comes to our mental health and that of our friends and family, I think it’s helpful to make the blanket offer of help – to authentically offer a person “whatever you need.” But sometimes, I think we let courtesies and manners and automatically generated small-talk phrases crowd out intentional presence. When someone tells you what they need, hear it and heed it. Promise to do what they’re asking you to do – if you can – and then do it.

Greater honesty and awareness with mental health is helping us make strides in accompanying one another better, with greater, deeper love. Let’s make sure that when someone is vulnerable and insightful enough to tell us what they need, that we then follow through and do that, for them and with them.

My Little Spin with Therapy

by Dan Masterton

The steady growth of mental health awareness the last few years has been a long time coming. For example, this past week, when we saw NFL coaches reacting to a major on-field tragedy by giving their players space and grace to process, I was flabbergasted (in a good way) to see something positive that likely wouldn’t have happened even five years ago.

Jaquan Brisker trains w/ Bills safety Damar Hamlin and considers him a close friend he's known since 8th grade. Brisker said he had to step away from the facility this week (he was DNP during Wed. walk thru, listed as 'personal') and praised Bears staff for having his back.

— Courtney Cronin (@CourtneyRCronin) January 8, 2023

I have plenty of close friends and family members who have shared positive stories of seeking therapy. They’ve celebrated lowering their stress, identifying strategies for self-management, and finding a higher baseline for everyday life.

At different points over the last several years, I’ve wondered whether or not I should take the plunge. I certainly have some highs and lows to my days and weeks and months. I also feel like I manage myself well and don’t notice in myself many of the hallmarks of mental health struggles. Yet, almost like the value of physical exams for well-visits to the doctor, I imagined there could be definite good in giving it a shot.

So, after years of hemming and hawing – and ultimately deferring – in mid-2022, I enlisted an online telehealth service (I chose MDLive, which let me pay one appointment at a time for a per-use fee rather than requiring a subscription with higher appointment frequency and recurring payment). I matched with a nice middle-aged Christian gentleman in downstate Illinois. We spent the first meeting talking through lots of introductory stuff for about an hour. I wanted to focus on impatience and anger, and the way I misdirected it at my children and wife and frustrations, over pet peeves and inanity in daily life as a mostly stay-at-home parent. He worked me through these areas gently and pieced together a pretty good snapshot of my personality.

We met a second time, doubling back to many of the same stories and questions, and digging into my emotions and mindset in anecdotes I recalled to add color to my explanations. What did we find?

First, while he said he didn’t feel any of my traits lended themselves to a particular condition or diagnosis, he identified my tendencies as being closest to Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD). I didn’t bristle; if anything, I felt seen! He accurately identified that I’m happiest and stablest when things go smoothly and efficiently and that I struggle most when things get messy, complicated, or mixed up.

Second, he encouraged me to study Choice Theory, which he talked me through carefully during our appointments. Essentially, Choice Theory (according to the Glasser Institute) is “based on the simple premise that every individual only has the power to control themselves and has limited power to control others.” The self-management strategy, then, is to look at a situation and ask what one can control and what is outside one’s control, and use that to remain calmer and more peaceful.

As someone with tendencies toward being a control freak, I worried a bit about what this might cause, but in practice, I found that it guides me toward a moderated approach. I find myself using the question “what can I control?” as a brain-break moment when I start to look my patience or my temper spikes; it’s the mantra I mumble or think as I step away or take a deep breath. It helps me focus better on tending to the things I can control and more easily letting go of the components beyond my control.

It also orients me toward prioritizing “connecting habits” over “disconnecting habits.” For example, trusting over nagging, and listening and support over complaining and blaming.

Here's a list of examples from Glasser.

After two appointments, we both felt pretty good about where I was. He left the door open for me to return for appointments whenever I wanted, but neither of us felt like it was imperative to continue with high frequency.

I agreed. It has been several months since I saw him, and I feel steady in rolling these positive strategies into my daily mindset. It’s nice to know I’ve established contact and have a connection with someone who can definitely help me, someone to whom I could return for further conversations. And also that I may not need to see him weekly or even monthly to find benefit for me where I am at.

All of this is to say that nothing about therapy was incompatible with my Catholic Christian faith, morals or values. On the contrary, I found that my therapist was explicitly respectful of my religious motivations and even sought to uphold those fundamentals in the way I think and act. And I felt that his advice for identifying and utilizing new mindset strategies could and would in fact improve my ability to do good, avoid evil, and build loving relationships.

My hope is that anyone who hasn’t tried therapy gives it a shot at some point. Even if you feel mentally healthy, it has the same effect as a physical exam – it’s a mental analog to checking your vital signs, examining your body and systems, and giving advice for continued physical wellness.

And if you have concerns about how your beliefs might impact how therapy will work, give it a try and see. You can use search methods to look for a Christian or Christian-conversant therapist. You can bring up your religious beliefs early in the first appointment. And you could switch therapists if you don’t find a good fit at first – many, if not most, people need to talk to a few folks before they match well with someone.