I hate asking for help. I would rather have a bikini wax than call someone and ask for assistance. Call it pride, call it stubbornness, call it stupidity — all those things are probably true — but it is a problem for me, nonetheless. I really love helping others, but when the tables are turned, it makes me uncomfortable.
It takes humility to accept help from another. But it also allows someone else the blessing of being selfless, of serving another, and of being the hands and feet of Jesus.
I have a friend who once came upon an injured dog on a busy street. Although the dog did not belong to her, she tried to get the dog to safety and capable medical help — but the dog refused to allow her to help. His barks and growls discouraged her from picking him up. She finally called animal control for instructions and waited for them to arrive.
Sometimes I am afraid that my own insecurities, brokenness, and emotional injuries stop me from asking for help. I am much like that injured dog — unable to see kindness and a desire to help for what they are: the love of God through another person.
A Plan and a Clan
The crippled man in Luke 5 has some incredible friends. Maybe he asked for help, maybe they just took the initiative — but either way, the man has a plan AND a clan. His "mat mates" were committed to getting him healed.
"When Jesus saw their faith, he said, 'Friend, your sins are forgiven.'"
Luke 5:20
These friends did not wait to be asked. They saw a need, they knew who could meet it, and they carried their friend to the feet of Jesus. That is not just an expression of friendship — it is an expression of faith.
The "Are You Kidding Me Right Now?" Season
We are in a weird season right now at the Neese house. It is a season many of you have been in — the one where numerous appliances and household items choose to give up at the same time.
First, we discovered a massive water leak from a water heater. The damage destroyed the flooring underneath our closet and shower. Thousands of dollars later — little thanks to our insurance company — things are slowly returning to normal. Then our son's shower clogged, precipitating yet another expensive visit from the plumber. Did I mention my husband's car died a slow, miserable death last month? The bank account has dissipated quickly. Our patience has dissipated along with it.
So although we are surely not crippled, we are in need of our friends right now. We need people who will pray for us, remind us of the faithfulness of God, and lower us on the mat of their prayers to the feet of Jesus.
The Blessing Goes Both Ways
Here is what I keep coming back to: asking for help is not just an act of humility. It is also an act of generosity. When you let someone carry you to Jesus, you are giving them the gift of being used by God. You are allowing them to be the hands and feet of Jesus in your life. That is not weakness — that is community working exactly the way it was designed to.
The injured dog on the street could not see the kindness being offered for what it was. I do not want to be that dog. I want to be the man on the mat — willing to be carried when I cannot walk, trusting the friends God has placed around me, and believing that Jesus is worth the journey to get there.
One Question for You
Is there something you have been trying to carry alone that you were not designed to carry by yourself? Who in your life is waiting for the chance to help — if only you would let them? I would love to hear what this brings up for you. Send me a note — I read them all.
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