Tip of My Iceberg

In life, I’m not a quick learner.

I miss the obvious, don’t listen to the wisdom of those around me, and often find I’m unobservant with what needs to be seen. Lessons that need to be learned take more time with this method.

And contribute much more frustration.

I threw my back out sometime last week. I’m not sure how, what I might have been doing, where I wasn’t careful. I might have been carrying something too heavy. I could have slept funny.

What caused it isn’t the issue. I can barely move.

It hurts to sit up. It hurts to lay down. I sleep in a chair because the bed is the worst place for comfort.

And I’m whiney. Just ask John.

Pain can be a severe instructor. It’s a reminder of what we can and can’t do. By its very nature, it’s limiting.

Unless you don’t pay attention to it.

I’ve been to the chiropractor twice. Her adjustments are close to the pain level of my sad back; I’ve not yet screamed out loud in her office. After both times, she said I’d be sore after her work on my muscles and joints.

Hurting more in order to hurt less seems counterintuitive. I did, however, schedule another appointment. Somewhat masochistic of me, but I believed her when she said she could help.

All of that, and I’m still not asking for help to pick up heavy items, move bulky things, or get someone else to do the bending to pick things off the floor.

It’s difficult for me to ask for help. I’m more than willing to offer my help to others, but to seek assistance is hard. Raised in a family where you do what you’re told without complaint, I learned to be self-sufficient and not expect help. It becomes a habit not to ask.

It’s also a pride issue, and what I’ve prided myself on is being a low-maintenance kind of gal who isn’t needy.

Being independent and capable, especially as a woman, can reflect both a strength of character and an unwillingness to admit need. There’s a tipping point where admired personal toughness becomes a barricade that keeps others from knowing the real me.

Do I want to be known? Or am I satisfied with a facade?

It’s so much easier managing an image, crafting it to appear as I choose rather than who I really am. If I do it long enough, I begin to question what my needs really are. What I’m truly needing from others to feel that sense of belonging and community.

The truth is I’m very needy. I need acceptance, love, forgiveness, hope. I need a sense of worth as I live each day. I need to know I’m known and valued for what I contribute, what I can do.

That’s why Jesus came. To make us whole, to give us purpose greater than ourselves, to live each day with hope and meaning. To not have to do all, be-all, but to walk with Someone who is.

Let Him carry my burdens.

I need that from Him.

Not a crutch; a Lifesaver.