I enjoy helping people. I love to sit down across the table from another woman and listen to her story. Listen to what she needs. What she really needs. And offer her what I have to give… Jesus, his gospel, my own experience, the things I’ve learned from Scripture and from life.
In fact, I think this is my calling. Discovering truth and sharing it with others just in the place where they desperately need to hear it. For me, that brings great joy.
I am very comfortable at the table I described above. Listening, empathizing, sharing, giving. But the experience of adoption is shifting things around a bit for me. I’m having to sit on the other side of the table now.
Adoption is changing me by pushing me to speak three very difficult little words: I need help.
I don’t know why it’s so hard. But then again I do. It’s so much easier to not have needs, isn’t it? To be self-sufficient. To have it all together. To secure that shiny halo in place every morning and set about helping other people with their needs. Tends to make a girl feel good about herself. Important even.
But as I mentioned last week, God has graciously taken me from trying to save myself with a good-girl-halo to admitting that I need help from the outside. I wrote about how adoption has shown me my own sin and my every-day need for a Savior. Help from the outside.
But the experience of adoption is also showing me that I need another kind of help from the outside. Help from my husband. Help from my other kids. Help from my friends, my church. I’m having to say it quite a bit these days: I need help.
Some help is easier to ask for than others. I find it fairly easy to ask for help with babysitting, house cleaning, and carpooling. It’s the deeper stuff. Asking for help with what to do with my anger, how to want to spend time with God, how to not go back to bed some days. Asking for help with these things is a whole. lot. harder.
But I’m there. And I’m asking. And my family and friends are responding and getting “on my team.” It’s humbling (oh so very, very humbling), but I’ve come to realize that it’s necessary. For myself and for these little ones God is asking me to care for.
When we humble ourselves and admit our need for a Savior, we might as well just stay there. Because we’ll never outgrow our need for him. And if you wake up one day and realize that you need help from the outside, you’ll be in a place where you can ask for it. Humbly. Ready to receive.
Anybody else ever had to say those 3 difficult little words? What was it like?
I’m celebrating National Adoption Month here at kitchenstool with a new series:
2 Ways Adoption is Changing Me
Part 2: Adoption is pushing me to speak three very difficult little words: I need help.
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