HELP

It is extremely hard for me to ever accept help, to say the least. I guess part of me figures that the person who has volunteered is just trying to be nice or has good intentions, but doesn't really want to help. However, it has recently occurred to me that I might be short-changing myself and them by always refusing help.

Let me first off tell you about our day at church last week. To be honest, it really wasn't out of the ordinary, except that the only seats that were available when we arrived were on the THIRD row from the front. Usually, we are camped out on the hard, uncomfortable seats in the cultural hall so as to not reveal what hideous beasts my children can sometimes be. Let me paint the picture: Madison and Hunter were laughing uncontrollably about who knows what and had to have their seating rearranged 3 times. Elisabeth was being mean and stubborn and insisting upon going home very loudly and as always, feeling like the whole world was against her. Then I look over and Ashton is on Hunter's back while Hunter is trying desperately to buck him off, only to have Ashton start punching Hunter wildly. Of course I am trying to hold it together being the picture of serenity, patience, and sweetness, with a celestial smile plastered to my face, while simultaneously having grand dreams of being able to kick them all to the moon. Both Robert and I ended up in the hall with the 2 youngest because both were too much to handle for one person, leaving Christian there who felt the need to "discipline" the remaining children. Of course after the meeting, we got several ward members expressing how they remember those days, and each was being so understanding and nice about the whole thing. Later on that day, my neighbor Greg cornered Robert and insisted upon helping with the two youngest so that Robert and I could enjoy the next week's meeting. Not only was he genuine in his offering, but he followed up 2 times during the week, asking what each child liked to eat and play with. Robert and I talked about how nice his offer was, but that we would probably be embarrassed further if we allowed him to help. But then I stopped myself and asked, "Why not?" He seemed genuine and non-judgmental and it would really be nice to sit through a whole meeting. So . . . we took him up on it. After taking the sacrament, he walked back to our row and picked up Ashton and carried him out, kicking and screaming for dear life. Greg had come prepared though--he had brought snacks and Ashton's favorite thing to color--Lightening McQueen cars. Somehow, he got Ashton to stop screaming and played and colored with him the rest of the meeting. Yes, it felt totally foreign and slightly uncomfortable to me to accept help, but how I enjoyed my sacrament meeting and I even think we are closer friends now that we have allowed him to really get to know us.

There are many people who WANT to WANT to help, but so few that just jump in there and do it with a cheerful and genuine attitude. I am so thankful for my neighbor who didn't judge us, but just wanted to make our day a little bit better. And he did. And I realized that it's selfish to only allow myself to help others, and to never be in the other position of accepting help.