Independence is overrated. Perhaps it is an American ideal, while other countries bend to the benefits of mutual interest. I could ask my international daughters about that. 

 

But this month I chucked autonomy out with the trash and welcomed help. A woman who is handy with a mop came and spruced up our kitchen and bathrooms. I happily paid her with cash I earned shortening curtains and recovering cushions. John and I began two new marriage groups, one online and one in living color. Participants expressed how ninety minutes infused congeniality into their relationships, which amazes me because it is not as if we did anything tangible. 

 

The whole system rests on the assumption that we are not sufficient unto ourselves. That is perhaps a notion that goes against the grain for some of us. Maybe all of us. Well, not toddlers. They are the first to raise their hands for help when mom walks in the room. No pretense of autonomy getting in the way of their supper. 

 

The weaving together of lives reminds me of the web of nature, which I only understand from National Geographic documentaries. All of it suggests to me that this is not plan B. God wants us to need and be needed.