Remember Slinkys? I think every kid had one at one time or another.
I couldn’t ever get one to work right. I mean, I’d put it on the top stair and start it down the next and instead of doing its “Slinky thing”, it would tumble down in a lump. Without the grace and agility shown in the commercials.
Perhaps I was doing it wrong, but I don’t know if it’s even possible to do a Slinky wrong.
Hannah was about three or four when she handed me her Slinky. It was a tangled mess. She said, “Daddy, can you fix this?”
Hmmm . . .
I held it in my hand and stared at it, wondering where I might even begin. Hannah must have recognized my consternation, so she said, “Just give it to William. He can fix it.” It should be noted that William is her big brother, about eleven years old at the time.
Another hmmm . . .
I felt my “daddy-hood” slip a bit. I mean, daddies can fix just about anything, right? Well evidently, not this one.
Knots, on the other hand, I’m pretty good at. Big or small. String or even fine jewelry. I usually get it. I see it as a challenge. A puzzle. I find that surprising because I’m not particularly patient and my fingers are stubby and fat. My thumbs don’t work like they once did. A little pain here and there. But all in all, I can handle knots. I like them actually.
Got me thinking.
Some days, even some weeks go by and life is pretty good. No problems. No worries. We breeze through.
No Knots. No Tangles.
Then there are other days, even some weeks, maybe even months, where there is one Knot after another. One big Tangle we can’t unravel. Sometimes the more we try, the worse it gets. We pull one end and the Knot gets tighter. Pull a different end, and the Tangle becomes worse.
In Hannah’s case, she couldn’t untangle her Slinky by herself. She asked me, her dad, who failed without an attempt. So, she chose someone else, someone she trusted and believed could help her. She went from one to another until she got the help she needed.
Persistent and pretty resourceful for a three or four year old. She knew she couldn’t do it by herself, so she sought help.
Asking for help takes a bit of courage, don’t you think?
I mean, it’s admitting that you need help. That we can’t do it by ourselves. That we’re not as self-sufficient as we thought we were.
On the other hand, asking someone for help gives us a new pair of eyes with which to see the Knot or Tangle. Another pair of eyes might help us see it more clearly. Perhaps give us a new start. A new beginning. A way out. And help guide us through it.
Nothing wrong in asking for help. Nothing wrong with admitting we can’t do it by ourselves. Nothing wrong with another pair of eyes. With another set of hands. Nothing wrong with that at all. Something to think about . . .
Live Your Life, and Make A Difference!
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