Asking for help is not something I like to do. I’m just stubborn enough to think I can handle most things. I don’t know, maybe I feel like it’s a sign of weakness to admit I can’t hold up the world alone, or it might just be pride I’m trying to disguise as strength.

I’m sure part of it falls back to tendencies of a strong first born female temperament. We’re bossy and in charge, or at least we like to think we’re in charge. Then I saw myself in my second born son shortly after his arrival and learned it’s not exclusive to first born females.

Not long ago I realized that Ben Franklin said, “God helps those who help themselves,” not Jesus. I understand Ben was encouraging people to not be lazy, but for those of us who are independent by nature, it can be taken way out of context, like a decree of sorts. To ask for help is not unholy, it’s healthy.

No wonder it feels so much better to give help than accept it. When giving, it appears you are the strong one, seemingly in control and it looks so generous and kind. We tend to feel sorry for someone who needs help. I suppose the last thing I want is someone to feel sorry for me.

I’m slowly learning if I humble myself and ask for help, people are more than glad to give it. So I need to get over myself and when someone says, “Let me do that for you,” and let them.