The Gift of Asking for Help

Nine weeks doesn’t sound so long, but when you are unable to drive for nine weeks, it can feel like an eternity. This was where I found myself after Labor Day weekend. A fall on my bicycle yielded a broken shoulder that took me from behind the steering wheel of my car to the passenger seat of others’ cars.

At first, the whole situation was disorienting. Between the pain and dependence on others for things other than driving, every single thing felt like a major effort, including sleep. As I figured out what I was able to do for myself, I settled into the new normal of healing.

It isn’t always easy for me to ask others for help. I know that about myself, and I admire friends who can come out and ask for what they need. Over the nine weeks I got a lot of practice in asking for help, and like working a tight muscle, it got easier over time. I anticipated that the time of being less mobile would offer opportunities for spiritual growth. Finding ease in asking for what I needed was a fruit of my time not behind the wheel.

What I know is that people want to help, and are happy to be asked. One friend actually thanked me for asking her! No one grudgingly said yes. I never felt tension, as if someone was driving me out of obligation. On the contrary, the times in cars of various friends was an opportunity to know them better, to have conversations we might not otherwise have.

There are those who say that no one will do for us what a spouse or close family member will do. This sells short the goodness of others, the willingness of others to help. What I know, after nine weeks of depending on others, is that such a view doesn’t reflect my reality. People are hard-wired to want to help others. Generosity is a natural human trait. It is a gift to be asked to help another, because it lets us flex our generosity muscle, and specific requests for help allow us to do something for another that we know they will appreciate.

Asking for help is a gift, just as much as receiving help. May you recognize this, especially if you are reluctant to ask for help when you need it.

Working for Good

 It’s been a heavy time recently. The upsurge in Covid cases and the fatigue of medical workers, the fall of Afghanistan to the Taliban, Haiti’s earthquake, and tropical storm systems, and more events that are probably coming to your mind as you read this. It is easy to get swept away in the heaviness. There is much that isn’t right in the world.

Add to all of this, it’s my week to prepare a Sunday school lesson, and we’re in the midst of a month-long study of Job. Oh joy. I am tasked to teach about despair, about what we do when God is unresponsive.

All of this was on my mind this morning as I headed outside for my walk. I stopped to watch a

vivid sunrise and remembered the morning prayer I often recite, one that begins with these words: 

New every morning is your love, great God of light, and all day long you are working for good in the world.

Yes. All day long God is working for good in the world, but to see it, I have to change the way I look at things. I have to go from macro to micro, from the broad sweep of news stories to the particular—the individuals who are making a difference in many small ways.

As I neared home, I passed two homeless men in a park near my apartment. I spoke and they responded, and we had a brief conversation. One of them said, “I’m blessed,” and once again the words of my morning prayer came to mind: All day long you are working for good in the world.

I saw the man’s perspective. He is alive, he was sharing conversation with his friend, and he was enjoying a morning of pleasant weather.

I came home and read an email from an organization* I support that is active in Afghanistan. They are still there, providing care and community to the Afghan people. Their work goes on, in small yet significant ways, though they’ll never draw the attention of news outlets. They are a light shining in difficulty, and they aren’t the only light shining in Afghanistan. When I support their work, my small gift adds to the light.

It is right to lament the evil and devastation we see in the world. But we also must look past the surface and recognize that, even when it is hard to see, God is working for good in the world. Rather than wringing my hands in hopeless despair, my work is to do the small things that show faith: to speak a word of kindness, to support those on the front lines in difficult places, to be a bearer of light however I can. If we all do that, the love of God is made new every morning.

 

 *If you are interested in supporting the Afghan people, here is a link to the organization I mentioned.

Know Your Why

Recently I participated in a webinar for some continuing education credit. For several weeks, the notes I took have been sitting on my desk where I see them daily. At the top of my notes is the sentence: Know Your Why. The placement of the notes in my field of vision and the fact that sentence was the first thing I wrote is not the result of any intentionality on my part, but having that sentence greet me each morning has been a good reminder to me to use my time well.

 Know your why. How often do you find yourself on autopilot, on a hamster wheel of activity, without any awareness of your why? To pause and ask yourself, “Why am I doing this?” first requires that we pause. Yet pausing is not something many of us find easy to do.

 Years ago, when my children were actually children, we had a hamster. Harry the hamster was not terribly bright (though when he escaped from his cage, he was a master at eluding capture). He gave us much evidence that processing was not something his brain did very well. One way he showed us his brain capacity was that when he ran on his hamster wheel, he stuck his head out of the wheel, which meant that every half-revolution, he got bonked by the bar that ran the diameter of the wheel connecting it to the wheel’s spoke. He never learned. He never figured out to keep his head in the wheel.

 I think many of us are guilty of the same level of thinking. We just keep moving, keep running, without any thought to whether what we are doing addresses our reason for being in the world. We run, getting burned out, emotionally bonked on the head, without considering that we can change our behavior.

 It is important that we know our why. Knowing our why enables us to live balanced lives, lives in which we are awake and aware, lives in what we do fills us with energy, health, and joy rather than making us irritable, ill, and exhausted.

 One of my favorite psalms is Psalm 1. It speaks to knowing your why. Let me share the first 3 verses with you:

Oh, the joys of those who do not

    follow the advice of the wicked,

    or stand around with sinners,

    or join in with mockers.

But they delight in the law of the Lord,

    meditating on it day and night.

They are like trees planted along the riverbank,

    bearing fruit each season.

Their leaves never wither,

    and they prosper in all they do.

 When we don’t get caught up in the fray, when we don’t simply run on life’s hamster wheel, we are less likely to follow the crowd. Instead, we root ourselves in our why, and bear fruit. We live lives of meaning and direction. We know our why.

Toward Purity of Heart: Spiritual Direction

This is the final post in my series on practices that have moved me closer toward purity of heart. As a spiritual director myself, I am grateful for the practice.

Moving Toward Purity of Heart: Centering Prayer

Another post about practices that have been transformational for me:

Moving Toward Purity of Heart: The Practice of Lectio Divina

Today I talk about a way of reading scripture for transformation rather than information.

Moving Toward Purity of Heart

This week I reflect on purity of heart.