A Little Help Here, Please!
DP
The minute I bent over the side of my husband’s truck to heft the 30-pound bag of ground corn from the pickup bed, I knew I was in trouble!
What was I thinking? Even twenty years ago, this would have been a strenuous task, and here I was struggling with the weight of this chore that could have easily waited.
After all, my husband had promised he would unload the two bags later in the day but... well, you guessed it. Not only am I an impatient creature, but I am stubborn as well—and I wanted the job done RIGHT NOW!
And so, as the weighty bag cleared the edge of the truck and settled down in my arms with a force I hadn’t been prepared for, I felt something give in my left hip—and then a sharp pain radiated down my leg. Well, now I was really annoyed but still determined to finish the task.
I awkwardly hefted the bag over my shoulder (ouch!) and limped to the back of the garage, where I unceremoniously dumped the bag in a heap on the ground. I actually gave it a kick for good measure, although for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why I was taking out my frustration on an inanimate bag of corn.
For the next three days, while I alternated between sitting first on an ice pack and then a heating pad—and reaching for the ibuprofen every four hours—I had time to think about all the unnecessary heavy lifting we do in this life.
I’m speaking metaphorically, of course. On an average day, the tasks I have planned fill a page on my to-do list. And sometimes, for every task I cross off, I add two more to the list!
Do you ever feel overwhelmed with all the things you have to do?
Somehow, we humans (especially in our culture) have fallen into the thinking that the more we achieve, the harder we work, the more we accomplish in a given day—the more successful we are.
At the end of the day, as our heads hit our pillows, how many of us spend time taking stock of everything we did during the day... and start thinking about all that’s waiting for us tomorrow?
And when do we ever say to ourselves, “Yep, I got everything done. Nothing more to do here”? Rarely, I would guess.
I’ve also noticed that when I try to do everything myself, in my own stubborn way, without even asking the Lord for a little help, it usually goes sideways. And I make more work (or pain) for myself than was necessary.
I imagine the Lord looking down and just shaking His head as He watches His people struggle when we don’t have to.
The Bible tells us that God will help us with every big and little thing we undertake—if we just ask Him. God will gladly shoulder our burdens or help us carry them, if we just ask.
He was built for heavy lifting. We were not.
I get the idea of asking God for help with the big things—in all of life’s really hard moments: the illness, grief, physical threat, depression. Of course, we know God is there for us, that He will carry us and carry our burden too.
But the little things—really? Isn’t that somehow demeaning to the Lord to ask for help with all the little stuff?
With all the really important things He has going on—like wars, famine, human strife, natural disasters, hunger, and crime, just to name a few? Well, the short answer is no.
God expects us to turn to Him for help with everything.
If you don’t believe me, just give it a try. I started doing this (inconsistently, I admit) a few years ago.
At first, I felt foolish sending up short prayers for assistance with things like preparing a meal, driving a short distance to the store, or even doing yardwork or playing with my grandchildren.
But then, I noticed how much smoother every task went and how much more enjoyable everything became. I wasn’t as tired after a mammoth shopping trip for groceries because I spent less time wandering up and down aisles looking fruitlessly for items on my list.
The grandkids didn’t bicker as much and we spent more time laughing together. My yardwork was a pleasure because I didn’t have to make a half-dozen trips to the gardening shed for something I had forgotten.
Just recently, I was doing a sewing project with my two granddaughters, and as I started to thread the needle on my sewing machine, I stopped, looked Heavenward, and said a quick:
“Help me, Lord, to thread this needle.”
My ten-year-old granddaughter looked perplexed.
“Why are you doing that, Grandma?” she asked.
I smiled a bit ruefully, wishing I had learned this lesson long ago.
“Because, my dear,” I answered,
“I just can’t do stuff myself as good as God can.”
And her six-year-old sister piped up,
“Well, that makes perfect sense.”
And now at the end of the day, as my head nestles into my pillow, instead of thinking over the day’s accomplishments and planning tomorrow’s tasks, I just simply thank God for doing all the heavy lifting today—