independence or pride? 275/366

I am just a tad bit independent. Ask anyone who knows me well and they will agree. At least that is what I have called it for years. It would come as no surprise to any of my children or good friends that I ordered a rototiller so I could take care of  preparing this soil for grass seed. Friday a truth about me was revealed and I didn't like what was uncovered. I argued against what was suddenly plain... and I lost, miserably.

When someone chooses to spend a good chunk of the day and his own machinery to rototill, rake, smooth and level the work area from YOUR sewer line replacement, pick up broken tile and plastic pvc pipe along with large rocks that came to the surface after he tilled, spread grass seed, use his truck to get bales of straw and distribute it over the seed to protect it from the blackbirds, it shouldn't cause angst, it should lead to thankfulness. The internal reaction that scenario caused in my spirit made me realize it hasn't always been independence as much as it has been pride. 

Not the kind of pride that encourages you to do as well as you can in whatever you undertake, but the ugly, unhealthy kind of pride that keeps you from asking for help or accepting help that is offered without solicitation. The kind of pride that says "I don't need anybody." Even when you do.

After thanking him for his work, and swallowing down an argument when he refused to allow me to pay him, telling me it would be an insult if I insisted, I had to spend time with Jesus and repent of my ugly pride. I'm thankful when truth is revealed, but it isn't easy, pleasant, pretty or comfortable while it's happening. 

Being humbled yesterday did allow me to ask today for his help with watering the soon to be lawn for two days this week when I won't be able to. I figure at this point he has as much or more of a stake in how this project turns out as I do.