Think with me for a moment about George Bailey, he the main character from “It’s a Wonderful Life.” I know it’s May and we tend to think of him and this great movie only at Christmas, but most of the movie itself doesn’t take place during the holidays but just through the in’s and out’s of George’s normal life. So indulge me a bit.

If you don’t know the story, it’s basically about how George Bailey willingly gives up his own dreams and aspirations for others. His goal is to see the world, travel, go to college, but literally just before he is to leave for college or his honeymoon, crisis strikes his family or his town. He could run, he could leave it or them behind and no one would think the worse of him. But each time, George persists, and in the end he discovers, via Clarence his guardian angel, that all the sacrifice has been worth it, that he is rich in love, and that despite the sacrifice of his dreams, he has a wonderful life.

George Bailey has long been seen by me and others as a hero, a person who puts self over others, a life to emulate.

But today I wonder, is George Bailey just a victim of the compulsion of duty?

I feel almost sacrilege saying that. We revere folks who sacrifice out of duty. Today being Memorial Day, that is even more poignant. The men and women who have sacrificed life and limb and wellness of mind are a far cry past George Bailey. And my life? Nothing close to the fictional or very real sacrificers. I have spent my life, though, serving others through public education and ministry. And let me clear: I don’t regret that. At all. My life, like George Bailey’s, has been wonderful because of it. Wonderful!

But it has also been riddled with stress, financial and emotional. Caring deeply for others has taken its toll. This weekend, I have spent most of it sleeping. That’s what I do with a lot of my “free” time. Sleep. Try to recover from the week and weeks that preceded it. And I don’t like that.

Sometimes I figure that no matter the job I had, serving others or not, I would be stressed and fatigued. One of my Young Life bosses, whom I adore, once said to me, “Beverly, if you worked at McDonalds, you’d be stressed out about how the employees were treated and about how you could streamline the processes.” In that he is accurate. But why? Why do I lean into duty with an almost obsession? (Okay, an obsession).

Is it just that I care that much? Yes and no, I fear. I do want to help everyone’s life be a little better, a little lighter. I do want to help others see all God has made them to be. But some of it is a compulsion, a need to be “important,” a drive and an urgency to make a difference. An anxiety about letting up. What is wrong with me?

The other truth of “It’s a Wonderful Life” is that each time I watch it, I want to shout at those key moments George could choose to focus on himself, “Go, George, go! Live your life! It’s unfair the burden is placed on you!” I want him to be free and happy. But that’s not what the movie is about, and it’s not what has been taught to me as a woman and as a Christian. You sacrifice. You give it all. Go hard or go home. If I feel tired or like my life is hard, my go-to’s are 1) Christ. Enough said; 2) the Holocaust (especially in the context of Weisel’s “Night.”); 3) slavery and the plight of African-Americans; and 3) any recent tragedies (my line recently has been, “Think your life is hard? have YOUR legs been blown off by a terrorist?! No? then, shut it.”). My mind is such a joy to be around.

But so these have to be mutually exclusive? Sometimes. Memorial Day certainly reminds us of that. Sometimes what we want and what we have to do for the good of others are opposites. But always? I’m going to say no, though I feel like a horrible person saying it.

But what if pursuing what God has put in my heart is good for others? What if taking care of myself is also what is good for others? And, what if, and this is the scary part, what if it’s okay and even right to do what is good and right for me, even when it looks like it might not be good or right for others? These are very unnerving questions to me. Yet I feel like not pursuing these and taking a real, hard look at them, might kill me.

George Bailey might protest. But then again, he went so far as to almost jump off a bridge and end his life, so he is he to listen to? If not for that second class angel Clarence needing to earn his wings, George Bailey was a goner.

I’m nowhere in the ball park of that; no despair and certainly no bridges. I’m just tired and feel beat up almost all the time. May be that’s enough?

Is this my Clarence taping me on the shoulder?