I’m freaking out.
And it’s all my fault.
And maybe you’re thinking, “Seriously Joyce, I’ve read your posts, how can one person (Asian or not) have so much drama?”
I don’t, not really.
I’m just an introvert and I guess that right there explains it all.
But this weeks saga is because I involuntarily volunteered to help out with the children’s ministry at our church for a couple of months until someone can step into the role in January.
I’m a sub.
Correction: Make that, a co-sub. There are two of us.
And I’ve been trying really hard not to be myself for the last couple of weeks, because under it all I’m kind of a spaz about stuff.
Not anal or perfectionistic, I just happen to hate asking for help.
Problem is, I’m really good at not asking for help.
In school and work, people call that initiative. they say things like, “Wow, she’s a go-getter.” Or, “If you need something done, you can depend on her.” Which is generally true, unless I’m pregnant – then you can count on me for -oh, I dunno, nothing. Don’t even ask. . . because I probably won’t care. (don’t judge until you’ve carried a watermelon 24/7, strapped to your belly for 9 months)
But I’m not pregnant and so for the last two weeks, I’ve been efficient.
Like a hybrid.
But I also lost my peace.
Let the peace of Christ keep you in tune with each other, in step with each other. None of this going off and doing your own thing. And cultivate thankfulness.
Colossians 3:15 (The Message)
Paul says to let the peace of God reign and rule in your hearts. Let it be your compass.
And right now, I just feel anxious, which is my first clue something is going on internally.
All of this makes it sound like my co-sub doesn’t do much in this endeavor.
Sadly, nothing could be further from the truth.
She’s been great, doing her fair share for sure.
So, I had to ask myself why am I so stressed out about this?
Because I suck at team work.
Asking for help, pushes me off balance because it touches nerves that go all the way to the core of my being.
It takes me back to a childhood I’d rather forget and leaves me feeling like a charity case. . .
It takes me back to a growing up in a home with a schizophrenic, deaf mother and a dad who was a mechanic in the Army during the Gulf War. My mother was in and out of psych wards and my dad was usually inside the guts of a helicopter. . . and that left me sleeping on other people’s couches, sitting down to dinner with other people’s parents, and hating the whispers about what was happening in my family.
You can see why I hate asking for help. It makes me feel lost, alone, and really lame.
And I can feel God tugging on my heart, saying I need to go here. I need to go back to this place in my emotions and allow him to heal it and correct some wrong thinking I have about asking for help.
And all I can think is: I love you God, but sometimes the things you ask me to do. . .
Ugggh! Can you say root canal?
And as I step back to look at my life right now I see these moments in my life during the past two weeks where God is causing me to depend on other people.
– My parents offered to pay for some work on our van since money in the Ackermann household is tighter than a pair of Michael Jackson pants.
– I needed to ask my mother in law to babysit for most of the day. . . and it was last minute.
– I needed to ask the hubby to fix dinner because I was running late and our child-natives were getting restless.
– I needed to ask my co-subbie to help me figure some things out with schedules for the children’s ministry.
It’s all pretty benign stuff.
Stuff that shouldn’t bother me like this.
But oh, it does.
It takes me back to feeling vulnerable, helpless, and 7 years old again.
And I have two choices, I can fight it or I can ask God to heal it.
I’ve learned that fighting God takes a lot more work than just trusting him to heal me so I’m giving it over to him.
So now I’m learning to see past the “hating asking for help” part and I can see how ridiculously blessed I am.
– I have a step-mom who called just to ask if she should buy some Lunchables for the kids, for when they come to visit, “because she knows they really like them”.
– I have a mother-in-law who just bought me two pairs of shoes, that I can’t stop talking about.
– My dad came by on his way to work to fix my mini van (don’t knock the mini-van, it’s like Shag carpeting – it’s coming back in style).
– My hubby surprised me by finishing a sandbox for the kids that I had started but hadn’t gotten around to finishing.
Getting past asking for help is difficult, but it’s been so worth it.
I’ve been amazed at how boxed in I was living by trying to do it all by myself.
I do feel like I’m 7 again. . . but this time around it doesn’t feel like I’m a charity case.