Thursday, July 21, 2016


I am terrible at asking for help. Alright, I was all for calling a rooting service this morning when our main line backed up (again), but that's something I have zero experience or expertise in. But last night when, on the way to church, I spotted a beautiful log on the side of road that was begging to be brought home and made into a seat (the tree was a casualty from a recent storm), I cheerfully told the man who stopped and offered assistance that I "had it." (Retrospectively, after struggling to get it into the front seat of my car - I think it weighs as much as I do - and being spotted by at least one person from church, I regretted not taking him up on his offer, but I did manage it finally).

Even worse is asking for help with an emotional problem. I keep it together for as long as I can, slowly devolving into a greater curmudgeon than usual, all the while wondering why no one is offering me a hug. I mean, can't they tell what's wrong?!

But one day last week I was dragged on a hormone-driven roller coaster through the five stages of grief (with extra long loops of Anger and Depression) and no amount of logic or attempted compartmentalizing would make it go away. I gritted my teeth through what turned out to be a long and exhausting day, checking every initial response and replacing it with a more reasonable one, and apologizing a lot.

So I texted Adam before he got home, trying to prepare him for what might meet him at the door, and requested extra grace and perhaps chocolate. He turned up with a smile and an armful of thoughtful gifts (including chocolate), and I realized something: maybe no one actually knows that something is wrong if I don't tell them. Maybe people are more willing to help than I think they are, they're just waiting to be told what they can do. Sometimes my problems can be solved with a cup of chocolate sorbet (with rainbow sprinkles!) from our favorite soda fountain - and sometimes, I get by with a little help from my friends.*

*This is the conclusion I draw when I listen to the Beatles while writing
It's Five Minute Friday! Each week a flashmob of bloggers, internet wide, gather to write for five minutes (no stopping, no editing) on a prompt provided by sweet Kate, then link up and share a little comment love. For more info, more posts, and/or to join in, head here!


Tara Ulrich said...

Looks like many of us were thinking of the Eagles song. I'm so glad we can get by with a little help from our friends!

Andrew said...

Sarah, your post brought tears to my eyes. So honest, so true, so humble. You're the greatest.

#1 at FMF this week.

Emma Hughes said...

Argh, I resonate so much with what you say! I too am terrible at asking for help, but your story inspired me. It's ok not to have it all together all the time, and asking for help is a good thing... I need constant reminders of that!

Meg Weyerbacher said...

I think you were in my head last week! LOL

#FMF friend :)

Marie Gregg said...

Do we share a brain? Because this is me. I mean, can't people read my mind? Obviously they should!