“I’m carrying it!”
Maybe I should’ve had two bags of trash instead of one.
“No, it’s my turn! You’ve carried it almost the whole way.” She grabbed for it.
He swung the plastic bag out of her reach.
She saw me. “Papa, I didn’t know you were following us.”
I knew they wanted to do it on their own, bein’ as, they’re Papa’s big helpers and all.
No matter what the project, they always ask if they can help. Somehow they think, just being a helper, is all kinds of fun. And a trip to the dumpster— all alone—it’s a pretty big deal. But, I trailed along, watching from behind, just in case—
She reached for the bag again, this time she grabbed it, and pulled.
I had visions of tin cans and coffee grounds splattering all over the ground.
Thankfully, his arms must have been tired, he let go.
They waited for me to catch up and we walked the remaining hundred yards to throw a bag of trash into one of the two, great big, green, Whispering Pines RV Village dumpsters…or, I mean, to place a bag of toys in Santa’s depository.
They know I work for him, Santa. After all, he lives right over there, when he’s not at the North Pole. They’ve met him. He comes over before he makes his big run on Christmas Eve.
Anyway, we made it to the dumpster and Peyton, my grandson, grabbed the bag from his big sister. He looked her square in the eyes. “I get to put it in…myself.”
She let go and reached up on her tippy-toes and lifted the plastic lid as high as she could. She looked at me with a grin. “I’ll help with the lid.”
Peyton pulled the bag back and swung it up, over his head, with all his might.
BAM
It hit the side of the metal container and bounced back onto his head, rolled to his shoulder and then dropped to the ground.
My granddaughter, Nevaeh, started to pick it up but Peyton grabbed it first. “NO, I’m doing it.”
Nevaeh, released the bag and lifted the lid again. “Papa, can you help?”
I lifted the lid a little higher.
Peyton swung and hit the very top. The bag teetered, undecided if it wanted to go in, or flop back out onto Peyton’s head.
Nevaeh reached up with one hand for the assist and pushed it into the dumpster—ehem, I mean, Santa’s depository.
Mission accomplished.
Not so fast. Peyton was sad. “I wanted to do it, all by myself.”
“Hey, buddy, that was team work.” I patted his back. “Any noble cause takes more than just one.” I thought that sounded dumb, so I said it another way. “A big job takes a team. And you did great.” I don’t think it helped.
He just shrugged his shoulders, “But I wanted to do it…”
About that time a car eased by, “You’ve got some good helpers there. Looks like you trained ‘em well…”
The thing is; I didn’t train them. It’s a kid thing. They just want to help—love to help. It’s programmed in their DNA. It’s a God thing.
We’re created with a desire to help—kids just haven’t forgotten it yet. [tweet this].
Helpers. Kids have it down pat. They’re right there eager to help wash the car, fix the boat, mow the lawn, bake the cake…haul trash to the dumpster. They’re on the spot and underfoot—turning a twenty minute job into a two hour memory making event.
Helpers they are, every one.
Alas, somewhere along the line, about the time they quit believing in Santa, they stop saying I wanna help and start saying, I wanna do it all by myself.
They lose their zeal for just being a helper. It doesn’t matter if the trash tumbles back down on their head, they just want to do it all by themselves.
I wonder if God wired that in their DNA, too? I don’t know. Maybe. But I don’t think he ever unwires the need to be a helper…or be the helpee.
We do that. Society does that. Pride sings I did it my way. We go to the drive-thru that chants, Have it your way.
Somewhere along the line, we hear the phrase just-a-helper and think being just a helper is the bottom of the totem pole.
There’s no just about being just-a-helper.
We lose something when we think we’re too big to be, just-a-helper.
Being a helper is about linking arms, joining a team, community. It’s about putting another first. Being a helper is about communication, cooperation…it’s relationship.
It’s knowing that even when we’re as tall as we can be way up on our tippy-toes, we’re still small enough to ask for help…give it.
Being a helper is the lost virtue that cultivates our passion and points to our destiny.
One person sees a need to care for children and another sees they have nothing to play on. One becomes a teacher, the other a carpenter. One starts a school, the other builds a playground.
Have you ever said, “Hey somebody’s gotta do something about that” and everybody else just stands around…yawning?
They can’t see what you see. Feel what you feel.
When you say: I can’t just stand here and watch. I’ve got to do something….pay attention. It’s a key to your calling.
Seeing a need is really a seed. Rolling up your sleeves to meet that need is, seeding toward your harvest.
Being a helper cultivates your character to harvest your destiny.
No. I don’t think that means, Peyton and Nevaeh are called to be garbage collectors, but no matter what, I pray they never lose their passion to be helpers.
Maybe that’s why Jesus said:
“This is the truth: unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. In that kingdom, the most humble who are most like this child are the greatest.” ( Matthew 18:2-4 The Voice Bible)
Being just a helper keeps us humble; the fertile soil of greatness.
This past week I had to work on my biography. As I looked back across my life, I noticed, the stuff that made for a good resume didn’t make for a good life.
The stuff that mattered was when I was just a helper. The times I looked outside myself, saw a need and met it.
The awesome thing is; there’s no lack of that. Needs are everywhere. Rather than letting out a sigh, and shaking our heads, we can smile and see them as God given need-seeds.
Needs are seeds.
You may have it all together or you might be all messed up, like me. Either way, all around us are need-seeds. All we have to do is lift a hand and say, I wanna help. And we’ll be planting seeds toward harvesting our divine destiny. It's a God thing.
What if I took care of the needs I see and you took care of the needs you see? And what if that caught on?
We don't have to look very far to see someone trying with all their might…only to have it all fall back on their head...maybe we only have to look in the mirror.
You are never alone. Jesus said He wouldn’t leave us, but He’d send The Helper, to be with us and help us in every way. (John 16:7)
Being just a helper, really is a God thing. [tweet this].
Let’s pray.
Lord Jesus, thank You for sending The Helper to open our hearts and eyes to see how we can help. And our minds to know that when we do…we’re helping You.
Please tell me, how can I help you?
And I’ll ask, will you help me share this message?
Join the family:
ps: Have you read The Voice? It's more than just a book—it’s a message. A novel about the strength of family, the power of prayer and the battle that rages against them
Discover your destiny,
Doug
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