Help Me, God

Last week Matthew came home from school with information about a mentoring/tutoring program. Twice a week, for one hour each afternoon, students from the high school will be coming over to spend time with the younger kids - helping with homework, and just spending time with them.
Matthew's teacher had recommended this program as something which would be good for him. And as I read about the opportunity, I agreed. School is a struggle for Matthew and the thought of a 'cool' teenager coming along side of him to help seemed great to me. (I remember looking up to the older kids in school!)
But Matthew seemed hesitant. A little embarrassed, I guess.
So I told him it's OK to need help. And when you need help, it's a really good idea to get it!
Such wisdom, yes?
But I began to have a problem with it.
As in, I realized how much I need help, and how resistant I can be to accepting it.
While I was encouraging Matthew in his participation in this tutoring thing, I began feeling bad about myself. If I was good enough, Matthew wouldn't need a tutor. And suddenly I thought this program was a reflection of me being 'not good enough'.
In another realm, we're in the process of trying to get a grip on my good day/bad day cycle. On my good days, I can hardly understand why there's a problem. But on my bad days, I cannot deny the fact that I need help. Even so, there is a part of me that wants to figure out and overcome the problem by myself. In my own strength. (Seeing that statement in writing helps me recognize it's foolishness.)

So, there it is. Out in the open. I.need.help. I can't do it on my own.
And that's OK.
But, where does my help come from?
Though it may come in the form of a teenager, or a doctor, or a good friend, I know my help comes from God, alone. And it is in HIM that I will trust.