No, We're Good!

For the second time today I had an experience where I get back in my car and think, "Why did I do that?"  Before I tell my little story, let me explain that I am an independent, Type A, "I got this" kind of woman.  I was raised in a family of very strong, independent, Type A, "I've got this" type of women.  I'll be honest, we pride ourselves on the ability to move heavy furniture across rooms, carry ALL of the groceries in on the first trip, keep up with all the chores and schedules, and, in general, do it all.  It has its advantages, but it also has very many disadvantages.  

If you read my last post, you know that we've been in a tough, overwhelming season.  Not because of any one thing, but because of all the little things that add up to make one gigantic thing.  You know?  And, I'll be honest, a lot of my struggle has been because I am (you guessed it) an independent, Type A, "I've got this" type of person. Because let's be real - I ain't got this!  I was not made to have this. I was not created to carry it all. I am not built to run myself ragged. And let's just go right out and say it, I was never asked, designed, or intended to carry and juggle all the balls without any help. In some cases, I wasn't asked to carry them at all, but I decided to pick them up without being asked!  (Anybody with me there?)

One major disadvantage to my personality, is not knowing how to accept help.  I mean, at all!  So now to my story.  I was headed out of the grocery store today with Ruth in the cart, Caleb trailing along beside me, and two giant, heavy bags of groceries.  While pushing the cart back where it goes and preparing myself to carry both big bags and a little Ruth while watching Caleb, a gentleman asked if I needed any help.  Based on what I described (and I'm sure how I looked), the answer was yes.  But what I found coming out of my mouth was, "No, I think we're good!"  Really??  Despite knowing that I could use an extra hand, even then I couldn't seem to accept help.  After getting across the parking lot, loading everybody in, and getting in myself, I realized what I had done.  Would it really have been that awful to let this man carry one of my bags 20 feet to my car? 

Two things came to mind as I kicked myself for not just letting someone help me.  First, was something my mom and grandma often say - "Don't take away my blessing!"  It's used when someone wants to help and we refuse.  We've taken away that person's opportunity to bless us.  Second, was a scripture in 1 Corinthians 10:23 where we're reminded that while something may be possible, it doesn't mean it's right.  Clearly, I could get both bags and both children to the car, but was it beneficial?  Was it necessary?  Not really.  Just because I can do it, doesn't mean I should.  

Lord, forgive me for trying to do it all.  Forgive me for thinking I ever could.  Teach me to accept help from others and from You.  Give me a humble heart, Father, that recognizes my limitations.  Let me be an example to my children that perfection is not important, to focus on the people around them, and to accept help.  Amen.

Change of Plans

Can I be real with you?  Like really, really real?  The last couple months have been rough.  Crazy work schedules, quick trips, crazy two year old behavior, a clingy, fussy baby, many nights of broken sleep, illnesses, doctor visits, prescriptions, missed events, and the list seems to go on.  After talking with a bunch of people I know that I'm not alone and, in the grand scheme of things, my difficulties have been exceptionally minor.  But that doesn't mean it hasn't been hard. 

This past weekend we had three Christmas parties to attend!  THREE!  One each night of the weekend.  While it was a bit overwhelming, especially since Lucas had to work this weekend, I was also really excited at the chance to get away from the house and celebrate the season with friends.  Cue Friday night's work party where the snow gave me the slight question of whether we should drive all the way in to the city to pick up our children's amazing aunt who would be watching them for us.  Lucas made it there and back without any difficulty and the night was a fun break from the normal.  We did lose power for a few hours overnight, but all in all things went surprisingly well.

Then came Saturday.  About halfway through the day I got a text from Lucas which included a picture of his near swollen shut eye with a note saying he would be headed to an urgent care as soon as he was off because he was pretty certain he had pink eye.  Without getting into ALL the crazy details, we missed our party.  One that we had all been so excited to attend.  Instead we wandered through Sam's Club, had Chic-fil-a drive thru, watched a short Christmas movie, and went off to bed trying not to admit just how upset we were.  The next morning we began to watch Caleb for pink eye thinking he would certainly get it.  That night we were to have another Christmas party with some wonderful friends and, again, we were all so excited (including the kids) until the possibility was raised that maybe we shouldn't go for fear of passing along pink eye.  I literally held back tears as we discussed the possibility.  I know it might seem silly, but after the crazy month we had experienced and the excitement over the party (not to mention all the cookies we had baked!) I just couldn't handle the thought of missing something else.  I'm pretty sure my words and attitude were simple, "I give up."

As I drove Ruth and I to church so the boys could stay home and not potentially share any germs, I felt so incredibly defeated. My opportunity for a fun-filled weekend was once again disappearing and I just wanted a break from it all.  During the last worship song that morning, my attitude was changed.  Not completely, not entirely, but my perspective was shifted as we sang these words:

By Your Spirit I will rise,

From the Ashes of Defeat.

The resurrected King is resurrecting me!

Your Name, Your Name is VICTORY!

It felt as though God was speaking directly to me in that moment.  I had a choice to make.  I could remain upset and disappointed, looking at our weekend and this day as a wasted opportunity for fun or I could find a way to make the best of what we had left of the day.  So I formulated a plan as I drove home to mix up a batch of gingerbread dough (despite the 6 batches of cookies already strewn about the kitchen) and we would put together a gingerbread house as a family that night instead of getting to go to the party.  I was still disappointed, but my new plan gave me something to look forward to and something different to get excited about.  Turns out we were able to attend the party and our gingerbread house waited until the following night to be constructed!

Very often I have a strict plan or schedule in my mind and I can get pretty excited about the things in store for us, but when plans fall apart I discover that I'm not as flexible as I'd like to think.  I freeze.  I keep thinking about what I'm missing instead of what God could be doing.  

Lord, help me to trust You when my plans fall through.  Cause me to look to You for the new plan.  To not get frustrated and disappointed, but to get excited about what You have in store for us.  Amen