Take Help When Offered

Continued from here, here, here, and here.

Brethren, if a man is overtaken in any trespass, you who are spiritual restore such a one in a spirit of gentleness, considering yourself lest you also be tempted. Bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ. For if anyone thinks himself to be something, when he is nothing, he deceives himself.

Galatians 6-1-3

Leaky people need help. Lord knows I need it often enough, and yet I am often loathe to accept it. As I age and mellow, I think I might have a few suspicions about why this is true. Mainly it's because whenever I open myself up to offers of help, I equate this to admitting that I am doing something wrong. And lots of times I am. The above text speaks exactly to that, admonishing us to be very gentle and sensitive when we offer help or guidance, because in about five minutes we'll be falling into the same hole. It truly is a case of the blind leading the blind, and God is very gracious to allow us to help one another, considering how prone we are to muck it up.

Plus I hate to think of anyone else bearing my burdens. After all, they are mine, and shouldn't I be the one shouldering them. And can anyone else really bear them to my satisfaction? Because I certainly do waste a lot of my time deceiving myself and thinking I am something I am not. And I'd be embarrassed to think that someone might think of me as lazy, or unable to manage my own affairs.

WHAT? How does this help the situation, when my husband offers to get the children up for school during the week, so I can catch a precious forty-five minutes of additional sleep? No, I certainly don't want to let him bless me in this way because of my own pride. So I scurry around like a mole late at night, packing lunches, locating contents of school bags, checking breakfast supplies, laying out clothing. I'm sure the man appreciates the help, but the truth is that he thrives on far less sleep than I do, wakes with the dawn, and is completely competent to manage all the details of the morning routine. Instead of enjoying and appreciating his kindness, and the bearing of my burden, I am fraught with guilt, intent on making him admit that I am overtaxing his generosity. Almost daily I try and pry the burden off his shoulders and place it back on my own.

Which goes to show that I have an awful long way to go yet, but I'm trying.