She came home crying, the little bitty blonde thing of mine. Her feet hurt, and she was exhausted from the field trip and the day’s hike. That’s when she told me she had carried the full CamelBak of water all the way up the mountain, and it wore her out. But she is an unassuming soul and never a complainer, so she just kept trudging up the trail with that heavy water, on her grade school-length legs.
Her tears broke my heart. If only she had told one of the adults.
An adult would have used the spout on the Camelbak to release most of the water, and the weight would have been gone. She never had to carry it all.
But she never said anything, so she never got any help.
We don’t think to ask for help.
Instead we limp around, crying. Heavy, heavy, heavy. Not gonna make it.
Silently trying to suck it up and keep going.
Ask, Jesus says.
“Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.” (Hebrews 4:16 NIV)
Doesn’t the time of need start when we crack our eyes open before the sun is up and end, oh, let’s say, about the time we put our head back down on the pillow?
I imagine God gets antsy, holding back his store of wisdom and resources, just waiting for us to ask for help. See his fingers tapping and how he sits forward on the edge of the seat, looking for us to come?
Just last night before bed I was anxious, anxious, anxious thinking about teaching school this week. I’m still so green at the whole teaching gig. Then while I was brushing my teeth I scolded myself for worrying instead of praying.
So I talked to Jesus, and he said, Remember, I’m with you wherever you go. With the hope of him joining me in the classroom as Aide, my heart quieted, and I fell right to sleep.
Let us begin the week by approaching the throne.