Several years ago my friend and colleague Emily Sirkel wrote the following article about the importance of asking for help—not just for your own sake, but also for the benefit of those you ask.
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I love moving. I also hate moving. Part of me is always eager for an adventure, for something new and different and hopefully better. But then there’s the part of me that realizes I have to pack all 7,526 pieces of junk that I inexplicably have decided I can’t part with, and haul those boxes down a flight of stairs, into a truck, across town, and into the house that is my new home.
So I hate moving.
My husband, Geoff, feels even more strongly about moving. For good reason. This year alone, he has moved all of our stuff 3 and ½ times (it’s a long story). After moving around 3 (and ½) times this year, we bought a house and will finally be able to settle down for awhile. So that’s the good news. The bad news: it means one more move.
The timing of closing on the house and preparing to move again just so happened to coincide with a trip to India that Geoff was going on with our church. So that means the move was slated to happen when he returned, jet-lagged and exhausted after 10 days of ministry in a hot and humid foreign country where they eat a lot of curry.
Great plan.
But I had a better one. Instead of waiting until his return to let my sweet and strong husband do the heavy lifting like he always does, I concocted a plan to move while he was gone. So when he got back—jet-lagged and exhausted—and we headed home from the airport, he was in for quite the surprise.
I liked this plan much better. But, I am a working mom with a 10-month-old daughter. She’s big for her age, but somehow I don’t think Adelade would be much help moving furniture. So obviously my toddler and I couldn’t pull off this plan by ourselves, and I really couldn’t afford professional movers. So what did I do?
I asked for help. That seems like an obvious and simple solution, but it’s amazing how often we don’t ask for help when we need it. Instead we choose self-reliance and pride and not inconveniencing people. But I knew if I was going to do this and do it well, I needed to call in some favors.
So favor calling I did. Friends helped me pack. Family members watched Adelade. And on the appointed Saturday morning after Geoff left on his trip, 10 of our friends and family showed up to help pull off ‘Operation Move the Sirkels and Surprise Geoff.’ We were done in 3 hours. THREE HOURS. I have never moved that quickly or easily in my life—and I used to not have so much stuff!
In the midst of this adventure, I half-jokingly said, “One advantage of not having Geoff here is that I’m not afraid to ask for help!” And while I was kind of teasing (Geoff has a tremendous work ethic and is notorious for just doing things himself), I knew there was some deeper truth in that statement.
Asking people to help me wasn’t just about me and how I benefitted from it. It was also about them. I was letting them help me. And I’m not talking Tom Sawyer and a white-washed fence here. Friends and family like helping each other. Doing someone a special kindness—like giving up your Saturday morning and lifting heavy boxes for 3 hours in the Texas heat—actually feels kind of good. Connections are built, jokes are made, smiles come easily.
Believe it or not, I actually had friends thanking me for asking them to help. They were pleased to do it, and pleased that I considered them the kind of friend who I could count on to do something so sneaky and wonderful.
And how did it turn out? Amazing. Geoff says it is the best gift he’s ever received (the runner up might be that one time when my Christmas present to him was NOT taking him Christmas shopping with me…)
So don’t do friends, family, coworkers, and colleagues the disservice of never asking them to help you. You might just be surprised to learn they are eager to say ‘Yes!’…and the outcome will be so much more amazing than anything you could accomplish by yourself.
