I Got It.

We've been in this thing for almost three months now. Our world has been completely rocked. I would say it's been turned upside down, but I'm unsure that provides an accurate amount of directions we've been in. It's been upside down & right side up & sideways & diagonal & all of the other positions possible. We've experienced our hearts expand even more than we could dream for what at the time were complete strangers. We've had those same hearts crumble into pieces, then put back together by tender hands. We've been wrecked & reconciled & reminded of the goodness & crazy that come as by-products from saying yes to Jesus. These past three months have confirmed that becoming a foster mom was always the Lord's plan for my life - as unequipped as I feel most days, I'm pushed towards the truth that He called me into this space & so this space I will fill with everything I have. One thing I've learned over the past three months is this: I suck at receiving help. My initial response is to do it all myself. To say, "I got it!" However, there is a problem with that default setting. One, doesn't allow for growth in relationship. Two, I am taking away an opportunity for someone to join this beautifully broken journey. When we say no to people's offers to help (in healthy, beneficial ways - which could be an entirely different blog post), we are potentially saying no to what Jesus is asking of them & unintentionally creating more space between us instead of filling in the gap. Now, I don't think that said person would be outright offended & jump to the conclusion that we hate them & their help. However, when we step into someone else's space & offer our hand, we begin to feel attached to the "other" so much so that they don't seem like the "other" anymore & I think we see Jesus in ways that maybe we hadn't before. Stories are told in that space. Vulnerability is cultivated in that space. Connectedness grows in that space. Jesus is lifted high in that space. All involved in the moment encounter Jesus in new ways. How can I possibly continue to choose my pride over all of that? I think Jesus understood this concept full well. Throughout the gospels as he performs his miracles, Jesus consistently brings people in to help. He tells Lazarus' family & friends to take the grave clothes off. He asks Ananias to assist in Paul's healing. He tells the servants at the wedding in Cana to fill the jars. He really doesn't need anyone's help - He's Jesus. He's capable of all of these tasks. But He chooses to let people be a part of the story so that they get a better view of the miraculous works. Maybe so that they can get a better, front seat view of the glory that explodes outwards. When we experience the weight of that glory with someone else, a much deeper community builds. So, whether it's the bag boy at Publix helping me to the car while I juggle a baby on my hip & rocking spit up on my shoulder or girlfriends checking in to see how they can pray or best friends who let us crash their house on Saturdays, fix us dinner, play, feed, burp, bathe, & rock our kids, I will do my best to fight the knee jerk response to say, "I got it!" Because maybe I can get it myself. But maybe by getting it, we all miss out on deeper community & the potential to learn more about Jesus & the weight of His glory together. Let's all assume a more help-receiving posture, even if it's not the most comfortable.