I Don't Need Your Help! I'm Not A Wimp!

I once sank to my armpits in quicksand.

I really could have died under the sucking sand.

My brother and I were fishing in Matanzas Inlet when I tried to cross a tidal run and got stuck and sank in the sand which locked me in a vice-like vacuum. David was only a short distance away fishing with his back to me .

I could have called to him for help.

But I didn’t.

I determined in heart and mind that I’d rather die than ask anybody, even my own brother, for help!

The tide flooded in loosening the sand’s grip on me and I swam free – although I did loose my shoes -- and darn near my pants -- in the struggle.

So stupidly independent.

So easily embarrassed.

So prideful.

Rather drown my own fat ass than to ask for help – that’s me.

Yesterday, I had to ask for help.

After a long, painful internal debate, I called Ginny at work and asked her to come home because I couldn’t handle things. Hated to do that. Hated to disturb her at work. Hated to admit that I could not do it on my own. Hated to admit weakness.

Hated to ask the one person who loves me most in the entire world to help me.

I’m like that with God too.

Of course, Ginny dropped everything and came immediately to my aid.

What else would you expect?