My eldest son, who is six-and-a-half, is undoubtedly what you would call “stubborn”— err…”strong-willed”.
He comes by it honestly, taking after both his mother and father (it’s true).
He is also dramatic.
And impatient (as most six-year-olds tend to be).
It seems at least once a day he has a melt-down brought on by the frustration of not being able to do something. One of his favorite playtime activities is dress-up. Avery has a vast imagination-- he excitedly sets out to disguise himself as his latest favorite hero, his mind set on “doing it myself.”
Then comes the melt-down (Lord, help me).
The funny thing about it is that I am there all along. I am fully capable of untangling the inside-out clothes that so easily trip him up in his playtime mission.
I know how to hook, snap, and even fix all the little accessories without any trouble at all. I don’t even blink at some of the things he deems “impossible” or “broken” after throwing up his arms in frustration.
“Would you like me to help you?” I ask, my heart aching to help.
Sometimes he says no and continues to wallow in his mud pit of despair. It hurts me. It frustrates me. I hate to see him miss out simply because he won’t ask my help.
But other times his heart, soft and agreeable, says “yes,” and it is then that I am able to come into the situation because he has given me the permission and freedom to help. He trusts that I am able to do more than he could alone.
These experiences make me think that, probably often, I hold God at bay from doing a work in my life simply because I am trying to “do it myself.”
Then comes the melt-down (Lord, REALLY help me).
How quickly I forget that He is not only available, but willing to come into my situation and help me.
Oh, and how wonderful it is when He appears in the impossible, broken situations and breathes new life! There is a bright hope that dawns when I realize that it is no longer my own limited self I am relying on, but His unlimited knowledge, wisdom, strength, and resources.
But it takes a “tender, responsive heart” (Ez. 36:26).
“Lord...will you help me?”
What is your “impossible"--
An impossible child?
An impossible diagnosis?
An impossible task?
There is far more potential when we turn our “impossibles” over to God.
Let’s not wallow in hopelessness anymore— let's be women who humbly turn to God, trusting Him in the hard and impossible places of our lives, instead of throwing a pity party.
Let us set aside our hard and stubborn hearts and speak the four words that move mountains, part seas, enable men to walk on water, and heal the “incurable”: “Lord, will you help me?” Then watch as He effortlessly untangles and mends the broken and difficult places in our lives.