My help comes from the Lord.
—Psalm 121:2
I’m a mechanical moron. A wrench in my hand is a catastrophe in the making. This apple fell far from the tree; my father could fix anything. I miss being able to ask him for help.
That reminds me of Bill Frey. One of his jobs on the family farm was to grub stumps of pine trees that had been cut down. He was wrestling a stubborn one that wouldn’t budge when his dad drove up.
After watching Bill struggle for a while, he said, “I see what your problem is. You’re not using all your strength.”
“Yes, I am!” Bill flared.
“No, you’re not. You haven’t asked me to help.”
Are you sweating a knotty problem that won’t let go? Are you using all your strength? Have you asked your Father to help?
You don’t have to lift the load alone.
Ask your Father to help.