The song that comes to mind is “He ain’t heavy, he’s my Brother.” Over the past few months I have been challenged with a number of struggles that most people would collapse from. I didn’t give any thought to asking for help, I just tried to figure my problems out by myself.
Cancer? I have a bunch of Doctors and a lot of research. Child problems? More research and asking a lot of questions. Finances? Dig, Dig, DIG to find an answer (including Lottery tickets…). All these problems/questions I tried to figure out on my own but, somebody upstairs said, “Hey, STUPID! You’ve got buddies galore! Ask for HELP!” (A blog on my spirituality but dislike of organized Religion will pop up at some point).
Now the average homo sapiens would yell, “HELP!” but, me? I started paying attention to all the letters, notes, cards, texts, emails and phone calls from all the people who know me as a friend. You’d think I would have given in and said, “oh please!” immediately but, no. Instead, I muddled in and tried to solve my problems. Then things got a little harder to ignore.
Friends came to my house, packages arrive in the mail and people brought gifts of every kind. They took charge of what needed to be taken care of. After the last “rescue,” I realized that I must be the luckiest person on Earth to have such an out-pouring of concern. Was it something I said? Did? Didn’t do? Took care of? Helped out with? Gave counsel for? Some how I was blessed and awakened to the fact that a lot of people love me and I am forever grateful for all of their help.