For the last two weeks, Gregg and I have been battling Type A flu and pneumonia. He started feeling bad on a Monday night, and I started feeling bad on a Wednesday morning. By Friday, I nagged us both to urgent care. Come to find out, we not only had flu, we had pneumonia, and he had bronchitis as well.
We were totally flattened by this. Fevers, aches, coughs, no sleep, headaches. Early this week, I developed a sinus infection and added more medicine to my daily arsenal. It’s been a rough ride.
I posted about it on social media, and within an hour, I had a friend text me and ask if she could bring us dinner. I was a little overwhelmed by the request. Why, you ask?
I’ve had three babies, two of whom were in the NICU for a combined 38 days, two pregnancies that required bed rest, a husband who was in Afghanistan for 2 1/2 years when the boys were toddlers, lots of life happening in those years, and through everything, Gregg and I have never had a meal brought to us.
I’ve been actively involved in churches, delivered countless meals to new moms, new residents, people recovering from surgery, for funerals — and with all of those meals delivered, I’ve never received one.
I have to tell you – not having to think about what to make for dinner, having everything just show up — I have a hard time creating the words to explain how much stress was relieved for me. It may seem like a small thing. It’s not. It’s a big deal.
Topping that off, every single day, I’ve received a text or phone call asking if I need anything or need any errands run. Here’s a character flaw of mine: I don’t ever ask for help. I’ve needed help lots of times, but I don’t ask. Part of it is a fear of rejection (I’m not kidding). If I don’t ask, I don’t have to deal with the emotions of not receiving help. Part of it is a stubbornness. I can do it. I’d rather be the helper than be the one helped.
But, when I got the first text asking if I needed anything, I thought about the empty milk carton in the recycle bin and knew that going out with Type
I sent friends for bananas, to pick up Jeb, to bring more milk. I made myself consider every offer and forced myself to accept the help because I needed i
Gregg and I have regularly proclaimed how much we love living here at Fort Knox. We have good friends. We have a great chapel. I have an amazing women’s Bible study group. But I don’t think we totally understood the level of community we have here. Until it was there for us.
Now we understand.
A friend texted me about it and I told her that I’ve never really felt loved and accepted in a community before. I know I have friends, I have had good friends wherever I’ve lived. But I’ve never had a true community. She replied with, “You are treasured here.”
It’s us who treasure this community. I am so very thankful for all the help we’ve received, for all the prayers given up for us, and for the support we have.
My plan today, other than trying to get a grip on a household that has received only cursory cleaning for two weeks, is to write thank-you notes. I feel blessed to have so many to write.
If the opportunity is available for you to bring a meal to someone, to send a text to check on them, to write a card, to run an errand — understand that you will be doing so much more for them than you can ever comprehend. Seriously.