“I’m sorry.”
“I was wrong.”
“I need help.”
“I don’t know.”
I heard these four character statements in a John Ortberg video a few years ago, and they’ve always stuck with me. Four short sentences that embody humility and build character…. if you use them. All of them are surprisingly challenging at times. Think about each one. Kinda tough, right?
What’s sad is, I think these are often the hardest to say to our family and the people closest to us. Whether it’s to our spouse or children, ‘sorry’ doesn’t always roll off the tongue. Admitting you need help takes real humility. Saying you don’t know something can be vulnerable.
For me at least, it’s much easier to tell a coworker or a friend that I was wrong about something, or that I’m not sure what to do. But when it comes to my husband? I can be so stubborn, so unwilling to extend the same humility.
Even now, I can feel the resistance in me. A need to explain, to clarify, to make sure my side is understood… What’s with that?
Paul’s words ring true: I don’t really understand myself, for I want to do what is right, but I don’t do it. Instead, I do what I hate.
I actually heard a podcast recently where Tyler Staton talked about this very concept. I found it so very refreshing. He described a tendency to be ‘perfectly pleasant’ all day long to everyone he encounters, but when he comes home, his family (or wife) experiences his worst self. They get the leftovers. It was really validating because I struggle with the same affliction. My people get the worst portion sometimes.
The fact of the matter is, it’s so easy to be on our best behavior everywhere else. But something about crossing over the threshold into our own homes, where it’s safe, where our guards can be down, can reveal our most unhealed, undeveloped parts of self. I’ve been trying my best to turn those over to God. Show me any offensive way in me, Lord.
Back to the character statements, though. I’ve been trying to figure out which one is hardest for me to say in this season. I think it’s “I need help.” There’s something about those words that feels like a failure, like a confession, or an admission of incompetence. As though I should be able to carry everything on my own.
I was just talking to a friend who feels the same way. For whatever reason, asking for help feels extremely exposing. It opens you up to rejection, too: The person you’re asking could say no. They could ridicule you. They could let you down. (But really, when does that happen? That’s mostly just our insecurities sabotaging us.)
But man, do I need help often. I think we all do. What a refreshing and freeing thing to just come to terms with. Can I handle being a full-time employee, a mom, a wife, a housekeeper, a chef, and more… all by myself? Nope. And it’s good to admit that.
Also, it’s worth saying: Think about a recent time where you genuinely got to help someone. It feels incredible. I truly believe we are our highest form of self when we’re serving others. In other words, when you ask someone for help, you’re giving them an opportunity to do something good in the world and to experience all the warm and fuzzies that come with that.
So anyway… In conclusion: This week, maybe consider looking through the four character statements and figuring out which one you’re least comfortable with. Practice saying it. Often. I think we could all work on taming our pride, leaning into humility, and remembering that we aren’t God–and that’s a great thing. As Become New often puts it: I can’t. He can. I think I’ll let Him.
I’d love to hear which phrase you think is most challenging. Head over to my Substack and leave a comment.
In Progress,
Alyssa 💛
