"God, Where Is My Helpmate"?

Whenever the opportunity arises, I like to share a little story I concocted about God and Adam. This fresh bag of dirt as I like to refer to, that He fashioned and breathed life into intentionally naming him Adam, meaning "to be red", referring to the ruddy color of human skin. According to Genesis in the Old Testament Adam was created from the earth by God (there is a word play on Hebrew אֲדָמָה ('adamah) "earth").

I chuckle when I think of God looking down at Adam and after careful evaluation, He scratches His head and says, “as much as I love this boy and fashioned him in my very own likeness, he is just not going to fare well alone.” Straightaway, God says, “nite-nite buddy”. He then takes a rib from his side and fashions for him a helper. As it turns out, his new helper, apparently gets them both evicted from their plush garden home shortly thereafter.

It is rather puzzling if we stand on the proverbial sidelines with our index finger sharply pointing at Eve and think, what kind of helper disobeys the very command of God consequently unleashing the tumultuous winds of adversity from the four corners of the earth?

Who wants that kind of help?

So, the blame game ensues and is now in perpetual motion. Without looking beyond the mirror right in front of me, I've honestly lost count of the innumerable times that I shook my clenched fists at heaven on the very precipice of cursing the day God presented me with my own Eve.

My helpmate, the one that would steer me away from the jagged cliffs. Instead only to follow in her older sister’s wake, producing the perfect storm in our lives, leaving me bankrupt yet again. How dare this woman who is supposed to be with me through thick and thin, the one I relied upon to weather the storms with me, look at me and intentionally destroy the very paddle that we needed to reach the sandy shores of hope and freedom?

Decades later, my prefrontal lobes now fully intact and functioning at more optimal levels I’ve repented for the strong drink of delusion I ingested that resulted in the destruction of my helpmates Lego castles over and over again.

Thank God that she had the fortitude to forge ahead and the healthier she got the greater her resolve increased to truly help me, by design.

Over the years as I too began to get healthier, mentally, spiritually and emotionally, I have come to realize how absolutely helpless I am in particular areas of my life. How unnecessary it really was to endure all of those years of agony and pain because of my foolish pride, machoism, and control all under the umbrella of narcissism that “covered”, me. This dark cloak concealed the very heart of my helpmate in an effort to never allow me to truly discover this priceless treasure.

One glimpse at a time I started to see and recognize the eternal value of my helpmate and as a result, the dots were connecting. The picture was becoming clearer. The enemy’s schematic contained one main objective, and that was to destroy her through me. To his demise, he overplayed his withered hand transferring the power to the lights that came on at full strength.

It all began to make sense. Husbands love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her. That particular verse was worthy of further study which in turn, markedly broadened my understanding.  The cognition erupted that as I lay my life down, from that prostrate position is where the spotlight shown the brightest on my helpmate. The more I intentionally laid down my life, the more I experienced her help. The picture I am hoping to convey here, I liken to a see-saw.

When I push down, I lift her up and as she thrusts downward, then I am lifted up.

This constant motion is not a swan song, but an everlasting harmonious chorus of two hearts repetitively colliding, resulting in a unified eternal love stronger than the grave.

I have only brushed up against a foothill in relation to the mountain of greater revelation that I believe exists in this mystery of what God named, “helpmate”.

I am convinced now more than ever that “there is gold in dem hills”, and I have chosen to be a prospector with the essential tools in hand. I will persistently excavate this red dirt resulting in unfathomable degrees of help from this earthen vessel wonderfully and fearfully fashioned for me to cling to.

Now, if you will excuse me there is an empty seat on a  see-saw awaiting my arrival......