I drifted off to sleep to the sound of pelting rain Friday night and awakened Saturday morning to the same. Perfect weather for staying in jammies all morning. Which was indeed my cozy little plan.

And then I heard this disconcerting distress call from my MOPS group’s Facebook page:

SOS!!! Is there anyone that can go help Kristin with our convention fundraiser?!? Our basement is flooding. She is there now and I know she needs help! Please?!?!”

These two resourceful moms had organized a large tea party to raise funds to help them attend the national MOPS convention. Days earlier I had been more than happy to help, sharing a few recipes and packing up several tea-related items for them to borrow.

But now, on this soggy Saturday morning?

I was suddenly much less than happy to help.

Excuses began pouring out of me like an overflowing bucket of rainwater.

It’s cold and rainy.

I’m not a morning person.

I haven’t had my tea yet.

I already helped.

I don’t have any make-up on.

Service is not my spiritual gift.

That last one is my personal favorite. We Christians are often too quick to let a lack of gifting lead to a lack of responsibility. And while it is true that serving does not come naturally to me, I know that in Christ I am called to live a super-natural life and rise above my natural inclinations.

I also knew deep down that none of my excuses really held any water.

And then I thought about my daughter’s upcoming wedding. What if we had an emergency and needed assistance? What if I sent out a desperate, last-minute SOS? Wouldn’t I want others to respond to my call for help?

Do to others as you would have them do to you. (Luke 6:31, NIV)

God’s clear voice has a way of piercing through the fog. My excuses evaporated like rain puddles in the sun. I knew exactly what I needed to do.

I went.

Disregarding the time, the weather, the lack of caffeine and make-up.

I did for others what I would have wanted them to do for me. Truth is, there really wasn’t that much to do by the time I got there.

But I’m glad I did it anyway.

I may have looked a bit rough on the outside, but I felt good on the inside.

Maybe next time I’ll do it sooner, without complaint or hesitation.

Or maybe next time I’ll be the one sounding the alarm, and you’ll be the one coming in response to my need.

And I’ll be ever so grateful you did.

Because, really, is there ever any good excuse not to?