It’s been a few decades ago now, but there was a time when I was still an undergraduate with my senior year before me when I had absolutely no idea how to meet the needs I had financially. I was newly married. I was working more than 30 hours a week, while also taking 21 credits per term. My young husband was working but was not paid particularly well. We could manage the expenses we had like rent, car payments, my husband’s student loans, and groceries, but we really had no money left for my school. I was so close to being done – but so far from figuring out how in the world I could afford to complete it. The issue wasn’t so much the tuition costs – but rather the several hundred dollars of books I needed each semester.
I remember being so torn. I was supposed to be an adult. I was trying my absolute hardest to achieve independence and be self-sufficient. I was exhausted. I kept looking for solutions to the problem through my own ability.
The school library had copies of the books. You couldn’t check them out, but they were there. So for a period of time, I would go to class and try and get the reading done between classes and work. What I quickly found a couple weeks into school was that this “solution” was absolutely not sustainable. There was no way I could keep up this pace. My college’s library was not open 24 hours. I needed some way to have my own books so that I could maximize late evenings and weekends. But how?
About two or three weeks into school I broke down. I was sobbing. I have always done pretty well in school and I really wanted to finish strong. All my hope of doing so was gone. I was so discouraged. So embarrassed.
Then my father called me. He was doing what he has always done since I have moved out as an adult. He calls (now texts, too) to check in on his kids. It didn’t take but one question and I lost it. A simple check-in turned into a sob-fest. In between tears, I told my dad everything. When I finished my dad’s response was, “Michelle, why didn’t you come to me? Why didn’t you ask me for help? Your mother and I will help you. How much do you need for books?”
Here’s the thing: Some kids grow up in families with enough resources that their first thought would be to go ask their parents for help. In fact, my own children are growing up that way. But I did not. My parents were hard workers, but they did not have a lot, or near the resources they have today.
Why didn’t I ask my father? Pride? Maybe some pride – I certainly felt like I should be able to do this on my own… I also think that I was so focused on the problem and coming up with solutions for the problem that I overlooked the resources that came from stepping back and expanding my view.
I’m pretty sure we do this with God, too. We forget the amazing resources that are available through our Heavenly Father and His limitless power. And sometimes, we don’t forget God’s power, but our pride gets in the way along with our desire to live a life of independence. All the while we miss out on help from the One whose ways are always higher and greater than ours.
We need to cry out to our Father. We need to make our requests and needs known to Him. Make no mistake – God already knows the need – He wants us, however, to submit the need to Him. To ask Him to meet it. To depend on His meeting it.
“But in my distress, I cried out to the LORD; yes I prayed to my God for help. He heard me from his sanctuary; my cry to him reached his ears.” (Psalm 18:6)
Let your help come from the LORD.
Blessings!