A few evenings ago, I was snoozing through whatever non-Disney Channel show happened to be on, when I heard rustling… and struggling… and fussing. The sounds of utter frustration. So I blinked myself awake enough to follow the sounds and found my son's sheets stripped from his bed, new sheets in a wad, and Alan had had enough. He tried and tried and tried and he could NOT get the fitted sheet on that bed.
"Did you ask for help?"
"No."
"Do you want help?"
"Yes."
I picked up the fitted sheet and we had the bed made in a few minutes.
"Thanks for your help, Mom."
"Anytime."
While I could discuss the miracle of a 9 year old boy changing his own bedsheets, I want to focus on his aggravation.
I saw myself in Alan's struggle. How many times do I wrestle with a problem, growing more frustrated, more discouraged all the time when help is readily available. I have a great High Priest who sympathizes with my situation, whatever it is.
"Did you ask for help?"
"No."
"Do you want help?"
That's where I fail. I set a false standard for what I 'should' be able to handle, and what is an acceptable difficulty level to warrant reinforcements. I stubbornly refuse to ask, determined to handle things myself. That's stupid.
I don't have to struggle. I just have to ask.
