Help.

Oh, hello! It’s been a while, hasn’t it? I am pretty sure that my state of mind (however healthy or warped) is directly linked to how often I write so believe me, I have had an interesting few months.

Recently, though, I have been given the opportunity to work remotely. From England. And Northern Ireland. What an amazing story. For another day, though. (Wink wink, nudge nudge…)

One Tuesday afternoon (not so long ago) we went for a lovely drive to the outskirts of Belfast for a long anticipated horse ride. I have quite a few interesting horse tales to tell you. Also for another day. But do remind me to share about that time with Grietjie…

Anyway, back to Belfast. Long story short, the ride ended quite abruptly when I fell (jumped?) off Angel, fell onto a fence and sprained my ankle quite severely. The divine protection I felt in that moment is a testimony on its own because throwing myself out of the saddle is not usually my first reaction. Holy Spirit was there and He guided me. I came away lightly. It could have been so much worse.

Fast forward to one week later (we’ve skipped the funny parts about jeans and/or dignity shredded to pieces, NHS admin fails, interesting people in the x-ray queue and wheelchair assistance on my journey back to South Africa) when I simply get up out of my chair at the office and…

Stuck.

….

I am stood in the shape of a question mark and I cannot get up and I cannot sit down. Mayhem. Tears. Hysterical laughter. Quite possibly the closest I’ve ever been to being delusional.

Backspasm. For days. Facet joint issues too. Apparently due to how I have walked to protect the injured ankle. Our bodies are weird and wonderful and much smarter than we think. We cannot fool them.

So I end up in bed. Flat on my back. After having a full on conversation with someone, thinking they are someone totally different. Embarrassing. All that I want is somewhere to hide my red face, a heat pack and the ability to lie down very, very still. I think I might have prayed that God will tie me down with ropes so that I couldn’t turn from one side to the other like He did for Ezekiel (Ez 4:8).

Because moving just a centimeter caused for excruciating pain.

So I lie. I cry. By day three I can get up and walk for very short distances but I still can’t sit upright. Day five drives me to prayer. Finally. Because after four days of being torn between knowing that I simply can’t work, and guilt for not being at work, I realise that there is a bigger issue here. Strife. A lack of grace for myself. Judgment of others. So I pray. Finally. And God talks.

This is what He says:

“My Elana. Can you just stop? Why do you keep depriving me of the joy I experience when I am made strong in your weakness? Why do you struggle so much to admit that you are struggling? You are hurt. Physically. This time it is not due to anything other than falling off a horse. You don’t have to repent of anything other than being stubborn. Would you just let Me rid you of this strife that you have been sitting with for so long? Goodness. Just let Me help you!”

(He says it in a frustrated voice because He knows exactly how to discipline me so that I actually listen. He’s cool like that.)

Reality strikes hard – I think I am invincible. I think I don’t need anyone. I reject offers of help because I’m too proud. I don’t want to lean on anyone because I deem myself to be weak when I do. And my toxic ideas of what strength looks like, are finally proving to be a joke.

Stop. Just stop. The world is lying to us, Church. Nothing done out of strife is honouring to Jesus. It’s just not.

Excellence, yes. Hard work, yes. And doing that work unto Him, yes. But none of these things, if really done unto Him, will ever be driven by guilt.  Or from a place of not feeling worthy. No. It is not okay. We are not helping each other when we conform to the toxic ways of the world. We are not building Kingdom when we crack under pressure or are guilt ridden and stupidly mistake it for “a strong sense of responsibility.”

As I am typing this, I am still lying flat on my back. I wish I could tell you that I was miraculously healed after this massive conversation with Jesus but I’m not. Because I fell off a horse and I am injured. Simple as that. I didn’t go looking for it. I didn’t deserve it. It just happened. Contrary to what you and a lot of other people who know me might think, I believe not everything has this massive spiritual connotation to it. But in everything there is a lesson to be learned and today I’m trying to consolidate that it is okay to ask for help.

Simple principal? Yes.

Easy to apply? Definitely not.

I am pretty annoyed with the Western mindset on this. I’m pretty annoyed with the African mindset on it too. I’m pretty annoyed with worldly mindsets creeping into the Church and messing with our supposedly “Kingdom focused mindsets.” I’m annoyed.

We can’t seem to find the Godly balance between being overworked and being lazy. I recently read “Garden City” by John Mark Comer. The book is 100% written for the Western Church and I found little to relate to from an African perspective but because we live in a country that has very happily married striving with no work ethic and now we’re all severely confused, the thing that struck me most is where Comer compares our inability to rest to the Israelites in Egypt. He says “Pharao is alive and kicking, always telling us to work harder and produce more bricks.” Paraphrased to the max here, bear with me. He also says that actually implementing Sabbath and rest is declaring that we will not go back to Egypt and a place of slavery. It is like taking a stance against Pharao. It has massive repercussions in the spiritual realm.

I realise I’m way off track here. This blogpost should focus on my inability to ask for help but what I have come to realise is that I am not great at compartmentalizing my thoughts and struggles. They are all one heap of “gemors.” A thousand (and – one) unravelled threads make up the colourful spectrum of my amazingly alive thought life. So yeah. I struggle to ask for help. I struggle to rest. I find myself being irritated with people who seem to have learned the Sabbath lesson. Possibly because I am tired. Probably because I am jealous. Certainly because I desire so much to grasp what it looks like.

I won’t go into my rant about healing right now. I will give you a wee break. But know that it is coming…

So. Now I must give you the word of encouragement that I have, because I do have one.

The body of Christ is very much like our physical, weird and wonderful bodies. The moment I sprained my ankle, my back compensated for it. My ankle didn’t have to ask my back to help. My back simply did. Have you recently helped out someone who is feeling weak? Have you prepared a meal or offered to babysit for someone who is in desperate need of some time out? Have you been asking God to highlight the people in your inner circle who are maybe not as transparent about their struggles but are desperate for a shoulder to cry on and are suffering in silence because, like me, they struggle to ask for help?

We are all caught up in our own drama but let me tell you, focusing on someone else and acknowledging they need a helping hand might just change your perspective and restore their faith. You reaching out are probably their answer to prayer.

I’m off to go ask someone for help. Maybe on the way I’ll find someone who needs mine.