The Guest House's New Mattresses

Or, "Those stupid mattresses!"

A-hem.

The guest house had needed some new twin mattresses for a while.  I had it on my project list for this semester.  I'll skip the details, but just say that getting the right ones ordered was stress-inducing for me.

They were finally scheduled to be delivered, and I was trying to figure out how to get them in the rooms in between guests coming and going.  (Four twin mattresses aren't just something you can tuck in an office corner while you wait for rooms to open up, you know.)

Unfortunately, I got sick.  I spent the entire day in bed, exhausted and achy.  When the mattresses came the next day, we still had guests in the rooms.  They were gracious and kindly hauled the boxes up to one of the rooms so they weren't left sitting on the sidewalk.

They left the next day - Saturday - and I needed to pull the old mattresses out, get the new ones unpacked and made up for the guests coming that night.

Still far from well and exhausted at the mere thought of all that work that I simply had to do, I texted Esther.  I knew rest was imperative (my body was doing a good job of reminding me)...if only I didn't have to deal with those stupid mattresses!

She told me I should call someone and ask for help getting the mattresses moved, that I shouldn't feel like I had to work when I was sick.

I texted back in stubborn Rachel fashion: "I'm not going to make more work for someone else just because I'm sick."

If there's one thing in this world I loathe, it's being a burden.  I hate bothering someone or asking for favors, and I will go to almost any lengths to avoid this.  The truth was, I'd already asked for far too many favors that week (because I'd had no other choice).  Another one was just...too much.

I sat there on my couch, knowing God was showing me my ugly self-sufficiency.  Why couldn't I ask for help?  What was I trying to prove by handling it myself?

And I cried, not because I was wrong, but because I wanted desperately to have it all together, and this time I couldn't.

Eventually, the mattresses got shoved into closets until the next guests also left and I was able to handle swapping everything around.

They're set up now.  They fit in the frames beautifully and I think (hope!) they'll be comfortable.

I sigh, relieved.  Another big project checked off my list.

But since then, the Lord has continued to show me how wrong my thinking is.  The way I fight against need, the way I refuse to admit I can't do it all, my reluctance to live in dependence on anyone else.  I wish, in writing this, I could tell you I've learned my lesson.  I wish.  But it wouldn't be true.

The flesh dies so hard.

It makes me all the more thankful for grace.