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.