Toddler momentarily pacified by resting on my hip, I pulled my cart to the conveyor belt. A kind lady saw my cart full of groceries and asked if I needed any help. Reflexively I replied, “No thank you,” and cheerfully went about unloading my cart one item at a time, swaying my hips as though dancing to keep Littlefoot entertained.

This wasn’t a particularly memorable event for me, except for the song that came on the radio during our short drive home: I want to live every day as though it’s the last day of my life. (I can’t find the song online; if I do I’ll come back and link it.)

I’m driving, barely pacified toddler in the backseat, thinking about how this morning might look differently if it were my last day. And that tiny moment in time stood stark in my memory. What would it have costed me to accept a little bit of help? How was I helping her by denying her the ability to help? How would this moment in time be eulogized?

And I realized during my drive home from the grocery store today that I don’t want to be eulogized as the woman who never asked for help. Taking pride in the fact that I don’t need anyone’s help is foolish at best, more likely rebellious.

Maybe next time someone asks if they can help, the more Christian answer would be, “Yes please, that would be a tremendous blessing to me.”

Lord help me have that answer ready next time. Starting with You.