Sharing news

The other day, one of my students, who is also in my discipleship group, stopped by the office to say hello.  Naturally, he had heard about my accident.  He asked why I didn’t send a text to the discipleship group, as I had when another student’s wife was about to deliver their child and the student was traveling.

While I get his point about informing people so they can pray, my fall didn’t seem to warrant an all-points bulletin.  Aside from my pride and vanity taking a pummeling, I wasn’t terribly hurt.  However, even if I had been terribly hurt, I don’t know that I would have sent a text to the discipleship group; perhaps I’m wrong in not sharing something like that with the students.

As I reflected on whether I would share a serious injury or illness with my discipleship group (when they are off-session), I thought about how I struggled with whether to ask Mary Jane to pick up some Jell-O for me while she was in Kampala, not knowing whether she had finished her errands (I did ask, she did bring, and it was good!).  When I was sick with the crud from my niece/goddaughter, Arleen offered homemade chicken noodle soup, which was delicious.  When I was still sick, she asked if she could make me more soup.  Make.  As in, not just sharing what she already had, but making more.  For me.  It was difficult for me to agree to that; I didn’t want to cause her any trouble.   I did agree, and enjoyed another batch of delicious soup. 

Clearly, I still have work to do in asking for and receiving help.  Despite living in a culture where illness or injury to one is felt by all, I still behave like an independent American.  I even preached a small sermon to my class about this yesterday, that when something happens to a student, we need to know so that we can pray and help.  But am I willing to be the one to ask for prayer and help?  Not easily.