I am not quite certain of the dictionary definition of ‘betrayal’, but I know its sudden, piercing jab, the subsequent dizziness, the questioning of reality and the slow, continuous after-burn. My God, My God, why are you so long in answering me, so far from helping me? The floods sweep over me. There is none to help.

What is it about accepting help that feels uncomfortable? Maybe you want something done a certain way, and it takes an act of trust in an alternate outcome. Maybe you pride yourself on self-sufficiency, and it takes an act of humility to display your need in front of others. Maybe you see your need as less important, and it takes an act of honesty to recognize your weakness. Maybe you want to accept help, but no one is offering and you don't want to ask.

It was summer in eastern Asia, the air humid and saturated with the smells of fried foods from street stalls, punctuated by the sour notes of discarded fare. Techno music blared everywhere I went. Asia was new to me. I had moved half-way across America three years before will all my possessions in a couple of bags and nothing in my bank account. I was accustomed to a rootless kind of life – always ready for another change. The summer before was spent studying bison on the grasslands, but this kind of travel, across the globe, was beyond me. This summer, I only had two months in this country of urban sprawl and eager stares. It would leave me changed forever.

I love the TV show This Is Us. A friend and I watch it faithfully every week that it airs. We make it a full-fledged event, accompanied by snacks and a box of tissues. The show is about a family and their journey through the ups and downs of life: great joys, deep valleys and simple moments of beauty and love. When the main couple, Jack and Rebekah, loses one of their triplets in childbirth, they end up adopting another baby born on the same day. So, in one day, they give birth to triplets, lose one child and adopt another. It’s a lot. They go home with three babies feeling excited and scared, happy and sad, invigorated and exhausted.

The gospels are filled with questions, ones that Jesus asked and ones that Jesus answered. But this question, from Matthew 18, is one of my favorites. Mostly because Peter doesn’t stop at his initial question, but offers a suggestion that ends up proving just how wrong he is. “Surely seven times is enough, right?” I can’t help but think that Jesus chuckled a bit before answering.