A newborn baby is a good example to me, a struggling adult.  My little nephew Robbie loves to be held.  He sleeps right through the sometimes rather jostling transitions from one set of arms to the next, puts up with the childlike mistakes as his little cousins pinch his cheeks, pull on his arms and legs, and kiss him roughly.

He's okay with the fact that he has needs.  He doesn't even think about the possibility that someday he'll move beyond those needs...the needs he has for this family he's been planted in.  He just soaks it up.

Maybe it's a little easier for him than me.  After all, he probably lacks any vision of independence, and certainly he doesn't have to wonder whether or not he should ask for help.  The cries come, instinctively, when he is hungry, cold, tired, wet, or uncomfortable.

Earlier this summer, I became intimately aware of my pride when it comes to asking for help.  Someone said, in an offhand manner, that, although I am always willing to help others in my church, it is often me who is asking for help.  That rubbed me the wrong way.  Enough so that I definitely pondered never asking for help again.  Enough so that I have had a lot of emotional angst as I go through another season of needing transportation assistance to even make it to the few doctors appointments that pepper our family schedule.

Here is another example of the faith of a little child. (Luke 18:17)  Robbie is without anxiety over where his next meal or cuddle or dry diaper will come from.  He has no second thoughts when squawking for help when he needs it.  He doesn't worry about repaying his parents and family for all they do for him.  (Come to think of it, how often does that thought even occur to us as adult children?  Do you worry about repaying your parents for the 18 or more years they supported you financially, emotionally, spiritually, and psychologically?)

God uses the gentle touch of a great-aunt on fresh-from-the-womb baby skin to speak deep to my soul.  To teach me new humbleness and grace.  To let go of my worry and pride and participate in this big, messy family called church.

Our church is going through the "one another" commands from Scripture this summer, building unity and revitalizing our church after sending a large group of committed members on the church plant this spring.  I found a great list of the "one another" commands here.  The verse that jumped off the screen as I read it:
Do nothing from selfishness or empty conceit, but with humility of mind regard one another as more important than yourselves (Philippians 2:3).
I can easily see how that relates to serving others.  But the flip side of this verse is allowing others to serve me.  Is it not selfishness or empty conceit that would propel me to turn down a casserole brought to my door or an offer of babysitting from a friend?  Lord, deliver me from a mindset that sees only how I can serve others, as though I have no needs or am somehow better off or stronger than those I rush in to help!  Let me find a balance between being a washer of feet and sitting humbly in my seat while mine are washed.  Deliver me from pride that drives me toward independence and isolation, and help me allow myself to be held by those who love me and love You.

Lord, deliver me from the desire to be noticed, loved, exalted
Lord, deliver me from the desire to be favored, popular, chosen or acknowledged
Lord, deliver me from the fear of being wrong, forgotten or ignored
Lord, deliver me from the fear of being humiliated or left behind
~ Lord, Deliver Me by SaraBeth Geoghegan ~