"What does she need help with?" I asked suspiciously knowing that she had already completed the difficult tasks.
"I'm going to do her phonics for her."
"No you aren't."
"She said I could."
"Of course she said you could because she doesn't want to do it. But it isn't going to teach her anything if you do it for her."
I heard that little voice in my head that I so often hear when my children are demonstrating spiritual truths in front of me. The voice that said, "You are Flower."
I'm Flower? How am I Flower? The answer resounds in my spirit. "Every time you shrink away from a task because you are afraid or don't like to do it, and therefore 'let' someone else do it for you." Oh. Like when I let someone else make the hospital visit because I might not know what to say. Or participate in the evangelism focus because it makes me uncomfortable. Or greet the visitor because it is outside my comfort zone. "How are you going to learn to be comfortable or to trust me if you don't take the risks? How am I going to bless you in those situations if you don't enter them?" Oh. "Lord forgive me when I'm like Flower and 'let' someone else do the things that I know in my heart you are leading me to do. Amen."
The voice wasn't done. "You are also Jewel." I am? Of course I am. When I jump in and volunteer to cook the meal or host the party or teach the class before I stop and ask God if this is something I need to be doing. How often do I volunteer to do something that is actually someone else's growth experience? Too often. "Lord forgive me when I'm like Jewel and volunteering to do things that you have ordained for someone else to do. Help me to seek you first before jumping in with both feet. Amen."
How tricky the balance is! Do the tasks set before me and leave the tasks set before others alone. Trust God to give me the grace in what he has called me to do. Do not presume upon that grace when I am working in my own spirit and not his. Someday, somehow, maybe I'll learn the balance. Until then, I'm thankful he is a gracious teacher.
photo from www.morguefile.com; photographer: clarita