Receiving Can Also Be a Blessing 0r Call the Guy

Rev. Lonnie C. Crowe and Nancy Crowe

As Christians we rightly hold on to the truth of Acts 20:35: “It is more blessed to give than to receive.  However, that scripture does not suggest that receiving is a curse.  Receiving can also bring blessing.

     An old adage asks, “Would you deny me the blessing of giving?”  Out of our pride, we often refuse not only help from other people, but also from God Himself.

Being too proud to ask for help is wrong and dangerous, and often leads to destruction to ourselves, our property and even to other people. 

Proverbs 16:18 "Pride goes before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall" warns that arrogance can keep us from asking God or accepting wisdom and hep from others. The Bible teaches that humility, which includes recognizing our need for help, is a virtue that receives God's blessing

• Ecclesiastes 4:9-10: "Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their labor: If either of them falls down, one can help the other up. But pity anyone who falls and has no one to help them up". Partnership and mutual assistance are valued in the Kingdom. Sometimes we even feel guilty in receiving help when we need it.
• Romans 12:5: "So in Christ, we who are many form one body, and each member belongs to all the others". We are interconnected and be a community that can both give and receive as needed. 
• Galatians 6:2: "Carry each other's burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ". We need the mutual support and the sharing of  burdens to fulfill the law of Christ which is to love one another. 

 

• 1 Corinthians 10:24: 

"No one should seek his own good, but the good of the other person". We often hear that it takes a village to raise a child.”  In my case, it takes a village to care for this grandma.  I have a responsibility to that village to make their care giving as easy for them as I can.  I appreciate the lady who does some housecleaning for me.  My responsibility to her is to keep things as tidy as I can so that her workload is easier.  My family does not want the worry of me being on the road alone for long distances anymore.  I travelled a four state region in ministry for years.  Now, I don’t worry my clan by travelling alone. They don’t want me to fall off a ladder, so I don’t climb ladders.  I am finally reaching the point where I no longer feel guilty in asking for help.  It is a process.

Following is a delightful testimony shared by my niece.

Call the Guy

By Nancy Crowe

My dad needed a new toilet. So call the plumber, right? Of course not. My dad is an engineer. Likely he doesn’t know what DIY stands for because there is no other way. It’s just DI to him.  Nor does he understand the phrase “Call the guy.” He IS the guy. And by the trickle down effect, I, too, his second daughter, am the guy. With his help. He’s my guy. Well, was my guy. I didn’t know how to call any other guy. Mechanical, electrical, home improvement, water leaks, appliance installation, landscaping. The plethora of home repairs all land on my to-do list. Well, landed. Until, after years of frustratingly slow (and often failed) DIYs, I finally figured out how to call the guy. Furnace broken? Call the guy (but don’t tell dad). Car making a funny noise? Call the guy (don’t tell dad). Water leaking? Call the guy (do not tell dad). Tree need pruned? Call the guy (hide the evidence and don’t tell dad!!).

 

Need a new toilet? Call the guy? Of course not. Find one online. Ok. That’s sensible. And Home Depot is having its annual Thanksgiving toilet sale (odd, but true) with free delivery. Free delivery! Dad said yes to the toilet, but no to the delivery, “You can just pick it up.” But Dad. It’s free. “We’re not doing that, you can pick it up.” But Dad. They’ll bring it into the house. “We’re not doing that!” But Dad. I don’t think it will fit in my car. “It’ll fit.” But Dad. I can’t lift it. “It’ll be in two boxes. You can lift it.” But Dad. It’s FREE. “We’re NOT doing that!”

 

Heading to the customer service counter at Home Depot came a guy rolling a cart with a big box. A really big box. ONE really big box. When we got to my car he looked at me and called another guy. “I’m going to need some help out here” he said to his guy. The two guys struggled to put the box in my Honda “I hope you have help on the other end” sais Guy One and away they went And away I went.

 

From the curb to Dad’s front door is about 60 feet. Curb, sidewalk, two stairs, sidewalk, six stairs. Then three rooms and a hallway before we would hit the bathroom. I was pretty sure we couldn't do this. Dad’s 89 and I’m…well, a girl. But gravity helped us get started. We got the box onto the street and paused to talk about how heavy it was. And to rest. We “walked” it up the curb and pushed it to the base of the first two stairs. And then we stopped again  to rest and talk about how heavy it was. And then somehow we got it up those stairs. And again we stopped to rest. We were six feet from the car and spent. We slid/carried it up the sidewalk to those six steps to the porch. We tipped it and pushed and actually got it resting on the first and second step. And the sidewalk. There was no way this was going any farther. I hopelessly looked around for help as mom said “This would have been a good time for someone to stop and help.” I admitted defeat and forced Dad to do the same. We decided to open the box and take pieces out one at a time. Just as we reached inside, a Suburban drove by and parked at our neighbor’s house. And backed up! Wait, Dad. Maybe this was help. He ignored me and kept working on the contents of the box. Mom and I, however, were locked in on the Suburban. And out steped Paul Bunyan. Not kidding. Easily the largest man I had ever seen. 

 

“You guys need some help?” Luckily Dad is notorious for his slow responses. Mom and I, not so much. In unison we answered a grateful yes to this giant of a man walking toward us. And then another guy got out of the Suburban. Not quite as large, but if I had seen him first I would have thought he was the biggest man I had ever seen. I explained to Paul Bunyan what we were doing and suggested that the two of them could probably lift it. Before Small Paul reached us, Paul folded the flaps over and casually picked it up himself and carried it up the steps. 

 

“Thanks, we can take it from here.” (Dad, not me.) But Mom already had the door propped open. Paul kept walking. In the living room now. Where do you want it? “Right here is fine.” (Again Dad, not me.) Paul looks around (still holding the box), “Where’s the bathroom?” He started carrying the toilet through the house. He saw a bathroom in the hallway and looked at me to ask if that’s the spot. I shook my head and told him it was through the hall and into the bedroom while we both ignored Dad’s persistent, “Right here is fine.”

 

Dad and I followed Paul into the bedroom and left Mom to make friends with Small Paul. I watched in near disbelief as Paul carried the box around the bed and started unpacking its contents. While he chatted he was peeling off the plastic and casually organizing the pieces onto the floor. Dad was trying to chat but his uneasiness was palpable. I know he was trying to find a way to thank them and get them to leave. So I tried to keep the conversation going. Keep Dad boxed out of it. Finally, with the box completely unpacked, Dad broke in and said, “Well thanks. We can take it from here.” 

 

And Paul Bunyan said, “Oh, ok. If you want to install it yourselves. But…this is what I do.”

 

This is what I DO?! Paul Bunyan is a plumber. An actual plumber! He IS the guy!!

 

And Dad acquiesced. Mom continued to make a new friend, Dad watched Paul, and I sneaked outside to call my sister to tell her of the Thanksgiving plumbing miracle. Minutes into the call, Small Paul walked out the front door casually carrying the old toilet. “We’ll take care of this for you.” WHAT?! The miracle continued!

 

By the time I get back inside, the toilet was installed and they were all just chatting. Small Paul was visiting from the east to hunt with his brother, but Paul lives just up the street. Turns out Paul’s wife is best friends with one of my colleagues. Mom invited them to Bible study on Wednesdays and Paul invited her to theirs on Thursdays. They wouldn’t take any money, but we managed to get their address so we could send them a gift card. And Paul gave us his number for the next time we need help. “I’m just up the street, please call.”

 

I gave Dad a win by pointing out that if I had had my way and had it delivered, we’d probably still be installing the thing. Good job, Dad. And then I casually suggested that he take Paul up on his offer to help anytime with anything. 

Dad thought for a long time as is his method and finally said, “Yeah, I might call the guy.”

Hebrews 4:16: 

"Let us then approach God's throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need". 

Whether we are giving or receiving, sometimes we need to ask God for the plumbing angels and praise both Him and them for coming to us.