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Matt Woodcock, Church of England Pioneer Minister and Mission Supporter in the Diocese of York: 
It’s a proper relief to be with you this morning. Anything to escape our house for a few hours. It’s a hotbed of tension, tears and Biblical-scale tantrums. I’ve been on constant peacekeeping duty with those young twins of ours. Breaking up battles over unicorn slime, games of eye-spy, and whose hair looks most like Ariana Grande’s. It never ends. 
Admittedly, my wife and I have been just as bad. Stuck in a frosty atmosphere of ridiculous rows, pointed stares and eggshell treading. Yes, it’s fair to say that preparing to move house has taken its toll on all of us. I wasn’t surprised to read that it’s one of the top five most stressful events in family life. Nevertheless, the process of packing, loft clearing and reluctant compromises over what we’re chucking out, has been formational, too. I’ve found new levels of patience. 
Discovered diplomacy - and the power of slowly counting to ten. But, more profoundly perhaps, the move has also taught me the painful art of pride swallowing. Of forcing myself to ask for help. Blame embarrassment, stubbornness or fear of looking weak or incompetent, but so often I struggle with that. Particularly when it involves asking my father-in-law to show me the fundamentals of lightbulb removal. 
Yet I don’t think I’m alone. I often meet people - in situations far more serious than house moving - who are similarly reluctant. Convinced that there’s no-one ready, willing or able to call upon. I’ve been inspired lately by my wife’s 97-year-old grandad. He’s not just begrudgingly accepted help as some kind of shame or failure - but welcomed it. Allowed himself to be tenderly cared for with good grace and humour since being widowed. He’s even welcomed in a new housemate - Charlie the budgie. 
Grandad John has reminded me that such openness and vulnerability is a spiritual gift. That sometimes the two most courageous, liberating words I can ever say are ‘help me’. Be it to God or my loved ones. In our weakness we find strength, St Paul says. So I’ve now sent for the cavalry. Friends with serious picture hanging skills.I just need some marital help now. A twin-sitter so I can take my wife out for a hot curry. We’ve got some defrosting to do.