The Blessing of Neediness

As the years passed after my stroke, the likelihood of driving again grew more and more unlikely.  After multiple, unsuccessful surgical attempts at correcting my double-vision, I would get very sad thinking how poor Jay would now have to take James to school and pick him up every single day for our careers as parents.  I began to realize I would not be the super involved PTA mother I’d always wanted to be. I would never interact with his classmates or his teacher if I couldn't easily get myself to his school.  After all, even if I could get there with some help, unpacking the wheelchair and getting me inside that classroom would be a chore.

I truly think God saw my deep sadness in those early days of motherhood and post-stroke life, and gave us the gift of a neighborhood school literal yards from our house. Each school morning, Jay pushed me in the wheelchair and while James rode in my lap.  That doesn't mean we were always early—or even on time—but we got there. And the fact that I got to participate in this small, quotidian ritual thrilled me endlessly, because it wasn’t always guaranteed to me.

Jay would wheel me right inside the classroom almost every day.  Yes, it "put out" the busy parents a bit and disrupted the smooth machine of the daily drop-off, but it was totally worth it.  Jay explained his reasons: Yes, it would have been easier to leave me at home. But he knew it was worth doing the hard thing to facilitate my fullest participation in the world and to provide James the opportunity to watch his mommy make it work. Just because I can't walk well doesn't mean I should not be able to experience the small, lovely moments of life in an up-close way, like kissing my little boy goodbye as he ran into his classroom.

I harbor a near constant guilt at the extreme effort Jay exerts to help me show up to normal life. I’ve been tempted to hang back or stay home because I deeply fear that I am a burden.

But over a decade of life with disability has taught me that we can bless others when we ask for their help. Invite people into the opportunity to help you! You are not in this alone, and you should not pretend that you are. 

Don't live in denial!  You need help and your neediness is never a burden. Give others the privilege of making sure you can participate in life.

Obviously Jay is the person who "gets to help me" most often, but my neediness has taught my sons to be compassionate helpers wherever they go. And while every person in the world has not been accommodating, I’m determined to continue extending the invitation to help again and again.

I ended up joining the PTA , Booster Club, and several different councils. I even volunteered in James’ classroom each week. And while I certainly needed a lot of help to participate, I like to think I did my share of helping. I’ve since learned that rhythm is called the mutuality of ministry, which forces us all to both ask for the help we need and to offer the help we can give.