As PW's, it seems we often exist only to help others. Meeting their needs, listening to their stories, sharing advice in their context, bringing food to their homes, and so on. And that's all good - after all, it's what we're called to do, right? To serve others selflessly?
But what about when YOU are the one in need? Is it hard for you to accept help when you're so often the one giving it?
The past months have been tough on us for a few reasons - it's the busiest season at church and my husband has had to spend many evenings working late, I'm pregnant and have been quite sick & nauseated for four months, and the week after the baby news his mother was diagnosed with a rare and aggressive form of leukemia.
Since we've been married, my husband has served as a pastor in four different churches. I've often sent pots of soup or loaves of bread or extra casseroles to members that were sick or grieving.
Until a few weeks ago, no one from our churches has ever done that for us.
At a recent church dinner the subject of my pregnancy came up. I bragged on my PH who has faithfully taken over jobs like cooking and laundry. Since my nausea is most acutely triggered by smells he's had to take control of the entire kitchen.
One woman at the table immediately offered to bring food sometime this week. No offense to her, but I didn't really think it would happen. Lots of people offer to do things, but life often gets in the way of their good intentions. Besides, I'm a PW. I'm used to being the one helping other people - not the other way around.
Two days later, she emailed asking for our address, and to expect her at 6 PM. I was really surprised, and excited (she's a fabulous cook, I already knew that).
She showed up at our door bearing a feast. Scalloped potatoes, roasted butternut squash, seasoned vegetarian chicken, greenbean salad, two kinds of homemade dips with pita and veggie sticks, sliced cucumbers in lemon juice and herbs, lentils, and homemade pumpkin bread for dessert.
Food enough for two days at least - and the PH won't have to lift a finger (except for washing the dishes, of course)!
Her act of service was so kind and undeserved. It really met my love language. I was so overwhelmed with thanks and appreciation that I really didn't know what to say.
How do you react to people serving you? Does it feel weird? Do you need people to notice your needs more than they do?
How can we tactfully but clearly communicate our needs as pastoral families to the congregation?
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