One of the things I learned about myself in pre-marital counseling was about how I could stand to be better about receiving; both in terms of what receiving would do for me, and what it would do for the giver.
I suppose my initial reluctance to receive comes from independence. Or, more likely, a sense of responsibility (hello, first born). I generally want to, think I should, know I can or secretly want to show others I can do it all by myself. This goes for anything from receiving help out to my car with the groceries to simply asking for help with I could need it.
A typical situation
In my head: Good golly, I think I've cut off circulation in my arms with all these bags! I could sure use some help...
Person offering assistance: "Hi, can I help carry your bags? That's quite a load!"
What I actually say: "Oh, no thanks. I've balanced the weight so I've got it. Thanks anyway!"
What? WHY!!??
Another reason could be because
I like to help. I like to assist. I like to give. Sometimes it's because I just feel like I should (again, oldest child here), but most of all it's just because that's who I am. It's innate. Need help? Ask me!
In pre-marital counseling, the approach to this topic was about how to be and become a better
partner. It was a lesson in how to give and to receive to better learn to rely on one another. It was a good lesson for me at the time. It opened my eyes to how receiving benefits both the recipient and the giver, makes for a stronger relationship and teaches humbleness and gratitude.
My thoughts have led me to this post because it seems I'm in a season of receiving. Sometimes I can't help but feel bad (convicted? helpless? not sure which word encompasses the feeling) about being a recipient. I suppose it's tied to an idea that I'd be considered needy? Becoming a mom is serious business. There is much to do. There are many decisions to be made. I'm sure one day I'll shower AND actually dry my hair with some frequency... All in all, most days are fine, fun, manageable. There are, however, times when I've realized I needed help from my mom or a friend.
One thing I know I still need to work on is to stop waiting until I feel that I have to have reached the ultimate edge of sanity or physical endurance before I actually ask, "can you come help me?"
As of late, friends have come to my rescue without me even having to ask. These are good, gracious and thoughtful people who have come to my door with food, let me stay at their house, responded to random and late-night texts or have met me for coffee/playdates to let me vent about how 2013 has, when you think about it, been sorta crappy (literally...we'll get to it) so far.
On top of blood in diapers, changing to formula, multiple doctor & specialist visits, painful engorgement, lost luggage, the flu, RSV, a shower that won't stop leaking into the kitchen, a botched repair job on said leak which left a thick layer of mystery dust on everything in the house, baby's sleep regression, "piglets" in the dryer and more or less having single-parented for most of 2013 thus far...
...there was poo and poo-related business floating around our basement over the weekend.
In short, what appeared to be a small puddle -- initially thought to be rain-related -- turned out to be backup from the sewer due to a clog somewhere along the line. We had moved some stuff out of the way when we noticed the puddle a few days earlier, but around 5:30 p.m. Saturday there was poo in the puddle, and the puddle had grown to a lake. It seeped around and through walls, cardboard boxes and other belongings.
Thankfully the landlord was able to get a drain guy and a cleaner here within a half hour (impressive!), but the stink became overwhelming, so Rolin and I packed up and stayed with a friend Saturday night. Back at home on Sunday revealed how much damage had been done -- I didn't know where to start cleaning, let alone how to do it efficiently and by myself. Justin was scheduled to fly to Vegas at 10 a.m. and was frantically trying to get some laundry done...I stood in the basement and prayed for patience, peace, help; I prayed for the toxic ick to stay away from my baby. I prayed that we could hurry and get all of JT's laundry done so he could finish packing and have dry undies for his work conference.
I lost it when I opened my eyes and realized I was standing in a new puddle in a room where we'd moved a lot of our stuff to stay dry. REALLY!?! The stuff was now wet...including my new, still-in-the-box card table, chairs and roasting oven. I was mad. Why hadn't God sucked up the new puddle while I was praying (jk).
I knew I needed help. If anything, I needed someone to help entertain Rolin and keep him upstairs. I texted my (newly semi-retired) dad to see if he was working Monday. He had to cover for someone and couldn't get away, and mom is on jury duty so she was out. Blerg... Probably an hour later, mom called to say that dad had leaned over at church and whispered, "let's go to Spokane." Apparently, they got up after two worship songs, ran home and packed up grubbies, bleach, mops and rags and came to my aid.
I think the most impressive part is they dove right in when they got here. I had also completely spaced the fact that my sister-in-law was in town and was coming to visit Sunday afternoon. What sweet relief she was! She stayed upstairs with Rolin while mom, dad and I tackled the basement.
Anyway...the original intention for this post was to say I have been the recipient of much freely given kindness, assistance and love as of late, and I'm humbled by your actions (you all know who you are). I honestly don't think my nerves or tolerance would be intact if it weren't for those the good Lord has given me.
You all are a gift I'm grateful to have received.
