Asking for Help for Dummies

I almost entitled this post "God is Really Gibbs". Why? Well, let me explain...

A couple days ago, I had a bit of a melt down. Actually, it was more of a complete and utter temper tantrum in which I completely went off on my best friend, accusing him of not caring about me and never asking how I'm doing and never having time for me. I was not nice. And, the worst part, none of what I accused him of was even remotely true. In fact, it was the complete opposite of the truth. But I was being very selfish. I wanted attention. I was hurting and I wanted someone to realize that I needed help.

Ok, so yes, asking for help probably would have been easier and much less painful. But, I can't ask for help. I don't know how. Well, I can... if I can't reach a bowl off the top shelf, or if I can't figure out how to operate the cordless skill saw - then I can ask for help. If I hurt myself or am too sick to do something for myself - I can ask for help. But when I'm emotionally - or worse, spiritually - in desperate need? Then, I'm an idiot.

 So, today I was feeling very sorry for myself. And very much feeling lower than low. I knew God wouldn't bother to help me. But, at the same time, I did recognize that I truly did need help. I just wasn't sure what is wrong with me. Why can't I ask for the help I need? In my apology to my friend, I expressed these questions and failings of mine.

I sent the email, and decided to check my blog stats. Oddly enough, I had several visits during the time I was writing my email - all to the same blog post. "Don't Help." This is one I wrote 9 months or so... and honestly I couldn't recall what it said. So I reread it - and immediately pictured God giving me a good Gibbs' slap.

This event was immediately followed by a friend posting something on Google+ about how God is still here for us, even when we don't realize we need Him. And how He is faithful even when we are faithless. And, Gibbs' slap again.

Then I read a couple incredible blog posts published today: Push Starting a Spiritual Life and Why Faith, Interrupted.  Slap! Slap!

 So yes, my day was filled with Gibbs' slaps. With God slaps.

God truly is here with us. He answers us. He gives us that very definitely smack upside the head when we're too stupid to realize He's here and He cares. So, what answers did he send my way? How does one learn to ask for help? Why is it so difficult for me to do so? How do I get around this and get the help I quite obviously and desperately need?

Growing up I learned that asking for help (even for physical needs) was a sign of weakness. And it was a symbol of trust, which was always broken. So - to ask for help you need to trust someone, but I learned not to trust ever. And, to ask for help was to say "Hey, I'm weak." Growing up in an abusive home, admitting weakness was pretty much a death sentence. For a while, I did pray to God for help, but the more my prayers seemed to go unanswered, the more I died spiritually.

So to summarize:
Asking for help = Trust + Weakness + Unanswered prayer
Trust = emotional death
Weakness = physical death
Unanswered prayers = spiritual death.

One doesn't need to be a mathematician to recognize that this equation does not equal rainbows, butterflies and giggles. 

Asking for Help for Dummies...errr... Beginners...

One of my biggest issues is asking for help when I don't really have a valid reason. My faith is low? Well, that's a stupid reason. I have a lot of issues going on? Who doesn't? I'm lost? ... ? so find yourself? I mean seriously, if I were to ask the pastor to meet with me because I need help, I really wouldn't even know what to say.

So, perhaps that is actually fear keeping me from asking? I don't want to look stupid. I know I need help but don't know why or in what way. Yup, dummy here.

Of course, it is fear. It's always been fear. Fear of being stupid. Fear of being hurt. Fear of someone pretending to care. Fear of opening myself up to someone and letting them see the pain held within.

Fear of someone seeing the evil inside me. The worthlessness. Fear of being cast aside. Fear of being drawn in. Fear fear fear.

I really have no answers. I still have not asked for that spiritual help. I know I need it. I know I need someone to sit with me and pray for me. I know I need some borrowed strength. But I don't have the strength to admit the weaknesses within me.

So I sit at this impasse, knowing the truth is there somewhere, but uncertain of what this is.

Who do you ask for help? And how? (Besides God) Am I the only one afraid to reach out for help?

The Only Bra that Works - The Christian Bra!

It was recently said to me, "I hope you have a strong Christian support group to turn to." I found it rather offensive (no offense to the person who said it) that the word "Christian" had to be thrown in this statement.

When I was 12, I was almost raped. My parents intervened, and told me flat out that I must have been acting like a whore for this to have happened. My parents were good Christian, church-going folk. A few years later, I was almost raped in a seldom-used hallway in my high school. My God-fearing guidance counselor told me "it takes two to tango" when I reported the event. So, the summer before I turned 17, when I was raped in the park by a "friend" of mine (also a good church-going Christian, might I add), I didn't tell anyone. I didn't want to be blamed yet again.

Now then, let me back up just a little... around the time when I was 14 or so, I had turned my parents in for child abuse (a whole other story which you can find snippets of in my blog) to my pastor. He told me I must honor my father and my mother... and then proceeded to tell them the "lies" I had told him, which ended up with me nearly being hospitalized. Obviously, this was not a place to go when help was needed. After I was raped, I felt like I had no one I could trust who would actually believe me and give me the comfort and support I needed.

Fast forward a bit... the fall after I was raped, I still still only 16 at the time, but I started college (full time college for high school credit). I never stepped foot in the high school again other than necessary conversations with my guidance counselor, and occasional meetings with another counselor whom was more friend to me than anything else. Instead, I got wrapped up in college life. The friends I made - some were very devout Christians, some were atheists, one particularly wonderful young lady was Islam, and many just didn't know what they were. They were still trying to figure that out.

But each one - regardless of race, color, creed, religion, etc - each one of them gave me more support and love than I had ever thought I deserved. Of course, by this time, I was pretty broken and thought myself beyond any form of redemption... but they still tried. They held me when I cried. They loved me when I intentionally cut myself. They dropped everything they were doing to help me through one of my suicide attempts. They risked repercussions by hiding me in their dorm rooms when I ran away from home.

This wasn't a Christian support group. This was an incredibly comforting and supportive group of friends. It didn't matter if they were Christian. It didn't matter if they spoke of Jesus or Allah or the fates. And, this was the wonderful thing about this group - no one hid their beliefs. No one pushed their beliefs on the others... and no one felt they had to hide what they did believe. No one feared judgement or felt a need to pass judgement. They held each others hand when needed, and gave them that friendly smack upside the head when that's what was needed.

I guess my point to this whole little tale... you don't need a Christian support group to get through life's problems. In my opinion, you do need Christ... but your friends do not need to be Christian. I just pray anyone who is experiencing or has experienced any tragedy - abuse (physical, emotional, sexual), rape, suicidal thoughts, depression, mental/emotional/personality disorders, the death of a loved one, etc. - I pray you have a Support Group. I pray you have friends who will lift you up and carry you when you need it. It doesn't matter if these people believe in God, Allah, or the dust mites under their bed... just so long as they believe that you deserve love and are willing to show that love to you.

God bless each of you!