There’s something about being a dude that makes asking for help feel like a failure. I don’t know if it’s the testosterone, the tool chest, or the fact that we think duct tape and WD40 are viable solutions for everything—including emotional crises—but most of us would rather walk barefoot on Legos than admit we need a hand.
I’m especially guilty. I pray—sure. I pray for the nation, my family, friends, healing when my back feels like a game of Jenga gone wrong. But ask God for help with me? Pfft. That feels like admitting I don’t have it all together.
Which I absolutely, positively do not.
During my Bible study time today, the study notes suggested that I ask God for help. Wha?!?! I read it again. And again. And again. Ask God for help?! I guess it never dawned on me. Worship him. Ask for forgiveness. Pray for others. All things I do. But ask him for help. It seemed so foreign.
So, I Googled and concordanced, and I am now astonished and prepared to offer a short collection of biblical truths for every proud, do-it-yourselfer male (and female, too – women can be stubborn like that) who thinks they’re above divine assistance. (That’s me, just in case I haven’t been clear.)
1. You don’t have what you want because you don’t ask God for it.
Ouch. That stung a little. That one’s like God looking straight at your man cave and saying, “Nice toolbox. Shame you’re missing the one thing that actually works.” You’re stressed out, maxed out, and burnt out—but did you actually ask for help? Or did you just grunt in God’s general direction and assume He’d figure it out?
2. Keep on asking… keep on knocking…
Jesus didn’t say, “Try once and give up.” He said, keep on. That’s the spiritual version of pestering—but in a good way. Think about it like this: your kid asking for a snack 47 times before dinner? That’s annoying. You asking God for help? That’s faithful persistence. So go on—annoy Him. He can take it.
3. My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth!
If the One who made the Milky Way offers roadside assistance for your messed-up life, maybe stop acting like you can fix the flat, all while realizing you don’t have a damn tire iron. You can’t even fix your Wi-Fi, Chad—what makes you think you can fix your soul without God?
4. Don’t worry about anything; instead, pray about everything…
You ever notice we’re great at worrying and lousy at praying? We’ll spiral for hours about gas prices, politics, and the amount of month existing at the end of our money, but spend 3.7 seconds saying, “God, help me.” That’s like trying to run a marathon on one sip of Gatorade. Get real—either worry or pray. One leads to ulcers, the other leads to peace. Pick wisely (you bonehead).
5. Give all your worries and cares to God…
Yes, all. Not just the big stuff. Not just the “this feels holy enough to mention” stuff. Even the small, embarrassing junk—like your addiction to control or that thing you yelled in traffic yesterday. Or the stuff you’re ashamed of. Internet porn. Too much booze. The flirting that went a little too far. He wants all of it. He can handle it, wash it clean, and cast it as far as east is from west. You can’t. So, hand it over, tough guy.
6. You can pray for anything…
Wait, what, anything? Even, “Lord, help me not be a raging asshole today?” Yes. Even, “God, give me patience with my kids before I auction them off on Craigslist?” Absolutely. He’ll even take, “God, I’m broken and I just can’t even.” He’s really good at that one. God’s not shocked by your honesty—He wants it and He’s waiting for it.
So What’s the Point, Captain Independence?
Here’s the cold, hard truth: refusing to ask God for help isn’t strength—it’s spiritual stupidity with a side of pride. You were never meant to do life alone. You’re not a lone ranger; you’re a flawed human with a Savior who wants to help. So find a Bible study and a Men’s group. Heck, send me a note and I’ll hook you up.
Stop trying to flex your spiritual muscles. This ain’t CrossFit for the soul. It’s grace, not grit, that carries you through.
So yeah—pray. Ask. Knock. Seek. Fall on your knees and admit you don’t got this. Because you don’t. (And that guy on his knees next to you? That’s me. Because, in case you haven’t realized it, I wrote this post for me, not you. But I am glad and flattered that you made it to the end.)
It might just be the strongest thing you (we) ever do.
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