Blessed with Help

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I’m not great at asking for help. It makes me feel like a burden. I know people are busy–they don’t need my neediness on top of that. But that’s not really a great/healthy perspective to have. Cause we’re all going to need help–eventually. Some more often than others.

In the last few weeks or so I’ve been working up a major eczema flare up on my hands. So much so, that for the last several days, I haven’t been able to use them for much of anything other than very light housekeeping and very minimal food prep. I seem to have turned the corner on it (hopefully) and I’ll share my strategies for recovery and management in another post.

But in the meantime, things needed done. The weeds had waged a major takeover in the garden. The house needed cleaning. Dishes needed done. And half my time has been spent soaking my hands in something or trying to catch up on the sleep I wasn’t getting from the unbearable itch all night long.

And then the helping began. I did ask my older kids to help wash up anything that couldn’t go into the dishwasher. For once they didn’t complain. Everyone pitched in to prep their own meals over the weekend, when my situation was the worst. My mom came over and started cleaning things, and then decorating things in a flurry–just cause she knew it was bugging me and I had been in the middle of a project to spruce things up that I was forced to abandon. My dad popped his head in first thing in the morning to ask me if I needed help with anything.

Monday, I came home from running my son somewhere, and my oldest daughter had emptied the dishwasher and folded the towels–without my asking–because she felt so badly about my hands. I nearly cried.

And most of this wonderful help came without my asking. I’m incredibly grateful for a family that is so giving and thoughtful.

It can be hard for a mom when she can’t be the mom she needs to be. Self pity takes over. I may have engaged in some serious whining. But I’m learning lessons about graciously receiving the help that’s offered to me. Learning that I don’t have to be at top performance all the time. Or that it’s okay if my youngest only knows how to fix herself ONE thing to eat and has it several days in a row.

My kids learn to serve. I learn to receive. We’re reminded to poke our heads up from our projects or plans and team up for one another.

Is it hard for you to receive or ask for help?

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