Daddy Helped Me

Yesterday I talked to my niece, and she told me how her three-year-old had ridden his training wheel-clad bike up a big hill, got to the top and said, "I need a rest." My niece was amazed that he could do it. We're usually amazed by her little guy, so this wasn't new.

She put him on the phone with me, and the conversation went something like this:

N: "Hi Auntie KayKay!"...
me: "I heard you rode your bike up the hill. You must be really strong; you're such a big boy!"
N: "Daddy helped me."...
me: "You're still a big boy."
N: "I love you. Bye."

I found it interesting that N. didn't try to take credit for getting up that hill. I'd have been tempted to say, "Yep! I did it!"

Life is full of big hills. Too often I think that I need to get to the top of them all by myself. At three years old, there's no shame in needing help. So I wonder why, even after Jesus says that we are to become like children, I still think I have to strive, to perform, to "fix" life's problems.

Without going into all the details of my current "hill," I will say that I believe I will get to the top of it eventually, and will surely say, like N. (pictured here), "I need a rest." But I really want, like him, to be able to say, "Daddy helped me" instead of "I did it."