How to Show Christlike Kindness Without Becoming the Family Doormat

“Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you.”

— Ephesians 4:32 (NIV)

Maria loved hosting. She loved seeing her family fill her house, the noise, the chaos. But every year, by Christmas night, she was resentful and exhausted. She’d be in the kitchen alone, scrubbing pans while her siblings laughed in the living room. She’d say “yes” to hosting, “yes” to bringing the main dish, “yes” to storing the extra chairs—all while quietly tallying a score no one else was keeping.

This year, two weeks before the holiday, her sister called. “We’d love to come to you again! What can we bring?” The old script played in Maria’s head: Just say nothing. It’s easier.

But instead, she paused. “That’s so kind of you to ask,” she said. “I’d love to make the ham. Could you handle the potatoes and a salad? And maybe text the cousins to see who can bring rolls?” It wasn’t a demand. It was an invitation to partner.

On the day, when a cousin walked in and headed straight for the couch, Maria simply handed her the uncorked wine and a stack of glasses with a smile. “Perfect timing! Could you pour for everyone while I get this out of the oven?”

She served, but she wasn’t servile. She led, but she wasn’t loud. She showed kindness from a place of wholeness, not obligation.

HOW ABOUT YOU?

Do you confuse kindness with saying “yes” to everything? Do you think being Christlike means having no boundaries? Jesus was endlessly compassionate, but He was never manipulated. He served, but He also withdrew when He needed to. He spoke truth, even when it was hard.

Kindness from a drained heart isn’t sustainable. It becomes martyrdom. True Christlike kindness flows from a full heart and a clear mind. It can say, “I’d love to help with that, but I can’t take it on alone.” It can delegate. It can enjoy the party instead of just running it. You can set the table and also sit down at it.

PRAYER:

Jesus, You served from a place of overflow, not emptiness. Teach me that kind of kindness. Give me the wisdom to know when to serve and the courage to know when to share the load. Help me to love my family well without losing myself in the process. Let my actions be generous, but let my heart be free. Amen.