i’m not needy. & i don’t ask for help. & i honestly believe i really don’t need it. ev. er.
photo credit: kieran, my 3-year-old. no joke.
& now i’m realizing that that’s not noble, nor is it, er. . .helpful.
for whatever reason, i smashed into something tangible during my formative years, sort of a neon sign hollering, “YOU CAN’T TRUST PEOPLE. YOU NEED TO FIGURE IT OUT BY YOURSELF.”
& so i did. & i got darn good at it, too. i could manage. i had plenty of friends, but i didn’t NEED anyone. even when i had children, i could do it all myself. someone to watch the kids? nope; i’m good. a break? i’ll take one when he’s 18. maybe. if i need it. you want to come over & help me pack boxes? ya know, you can if you want to. but i don’t NEED you to. please don’t think i do.
i wholeheartedly, unabashedly convinced myself that i was fine with just myself. i didn’t NEED anyone.
not like you’re supposed to. what??? SUPPOSED TO??
part of being a piece of the Body, heck, part of being a piece of humanity is interdependence. i’ve been hanging out with Jesus for a lot of years, & this is part of my theology. in my brain, anyway. not necessarily under my skin. where it matters.
& now, carrying my fourth child, we’re crash coursing this. turns out, i can’t stay on my feet much at 33 weeks. when i do, we got all kinds of contractions going on. my legs ache, my back aches, & generally my body is saying, “SIT THE HECK DOWN, WOMAN.” i don’t like it, i’m not used to it, &, well, i don’t like it.
so i’m learrrrrrnnnnnning to ask. for help. for what i need. instead of boldly & proudly declaring, “no, you don’t need to bring anything to dinner; we’ve got everything under control,” i hear myself saying, “would you mind bringing a salad?” (whose voice is that, anyway?) also, “honey, could you throw in that load of laundry when you head downstairs?” & the clincher (i hear a hallelujah chorus, do you? you will.), “kids, i need you to put away the dishes after you clean up the dinner table, & then we need to fold laundry.”
frankly, these are tiny, baby questions, but a girl’s got to start somewhere, apparently. & even this miniscule asking makes my skin crawl. where have my super powers gone to?
the interesting bit: my asking is in direct correlation to a seriously amped up Love around me. i didn’t know interdependence was a direct line that Love uses. that when we open ourselves up to let someone else into our need, a giant chunk of Love lodges in our hearts & grows us. together, & in our own chests, too. like the Grinch.
so now, i may ask you for help (avoid me if this frightens you.). i quite possibly will take you up on that offer. as it turns out, i need you. i didn’t know it, & i certainly didn’t want to believe it, but that’s how it is. how we were made. how He intended when He wrote us in script together.
& now, i’m just a little less squeamish with the whole bit.
can you bring a salad?