
Just a few minutes ago Gideon got up from his nap. In a few minutes from now, we are having the Pothoven family over for supper and fellowship (they are in our couples Bible study). After family assignments were given (I'll start the grill shortly while Kathee spruces up the house a bit), I went to the 3-seasons porch to read some more of John Piper's Spectacular Sins book. In short order, Gideon came out to visit, closing both doors behind him.
As soon as our niceities were complete, Gideon wanted to return to the main part of the house. However, the last door had latched and he was unable to open the door. So he sat looking in at Momma vaccuuming inside the house and started whining and doing his best to hold back tears. I had quietly set my book down and was waiting for him to turn and say, "Help, please." But he never did. He just stood there messing around with the door, looking in at Kathee, and wanting to be inside, but he never asked for help.
Then it donned on me. That's me with prayer. How often do I get myself in to something (sometimes on accident, sometimes intentionally) that I am unable to get myself out of in life? And so I work and work, and ultimately end up in exhaustion and despair and giving up, because I'm stuck. And the entire time, my good heavenly Father is literally right beside me, ready to help and fix and remedy, and yet I never ask. Either from pride, forgetfulness, or any other reason, I miss out because I don't ask.
And I'll tell you something, all I wanted Gideon to do was ask. I was ready to jump into action and help him out. I just wanted him to turn to me for help. And yet he didn't.
So after the door was opened by Kathee I called Gideon back to myself, told him about the situation he was just in, that he'd get in to many more of these situations throughout his life, and that he can turn to his mother and me for help (if we are available). And that God is always available to help him... if he'll just ask.