A Lesson on Blessings

I’m sick today. I woke up with a raspy cough and the kind of sinus headache where even my teeth hurt.  I made it to work this morning, but I probably should have taken the day off.

I’m glad there are only five minutes until the end of the work day. All I want to do is collapse into my recliner back home. I’m hungry, but the thought of making something to eat sounds like more work than I can handle. I hope there’s a can of Campbell’s in the back of my cupboard.

My phone buzzes.  I check the screen and find a text from a family friend, Stephanie.

“Hi, Logan. Your mom told me you aren’t feeling well. Can I bring you some dinner this evening?”

The timing is perfect. Dinner would be such a blessing.

But I’m uneasy about responding. I know Stephanie lives half an hour away, and I feel guilty having her drive that far. I also know that she has family in town this weekend. I don’t want her to waste her time making food for me.

These kind of feelings aren’t unusual ones for me. It’s hard for me to accept help. It makes me feel undeserving. Burdensome. Like a taker instead of a giver.

As a shut down my computer for the day, I struggle with how to respond to the text. Uncertainty gnaws at me as I walk to my car.

But halfway across the parking lot, I stop.

Somebody wants to bless me. To help me feel better.  And I’ve turned it into something stressful.

That’s the opposite of what Stephanie would want.

I need to learn how to let other people take care of me. I need to learn how to accept blessings. God has put somebody in my life to help me on a day when I need it. All I need to do is say thank you.

I pull out my phone and text Stephanie.

“I would appreciate that so much. Thank you for taking care of me.”

A little while later, I sit at my kitchen table eating a bowl of homemade soup. My stomach is warm and full. And the gnawing feeling is gone. 

I am so glad that today, I decided to accept a blessing.