By Betsy Gonwa, 
It began with a cardigan that would not stay buttoned. A small annoyance, that’s what it was. I would wear the sweater, but it would hang open. It was in a good state of repair, certainly with many good years of wear left in it, but it mostly took up space in my drawer.
I determined that the buttons were too small for the holes and that’s why they kept sliding out, so I decided to look for some larger buttons. I took the sweater to the fabric store to peruse the button section for some slightly larger buttons. I pulled some packages off the rack, and compared the buttons to those on my sweater. I tried slipping one through the hole, but it was impossible to know whether it would stay once I was wearing the sweater.
I needed a more accurate measurement. So I got in line at the cutting counter. I would ask one of the clerks to measure for me. When my number was called, I explained to the clerk what I needed.
Patiently, she listened. Then she asked, “Do you still have all the buttons?”
“Yes,” I replied. They were still attached to the sweater. And then, to my surprise, she suggested a completely different solution. “Just stitch a couple of stitches at the edge of the stretched-out button holes,” she said, and with that, she slid the sweater back across the counter and prepared to serve her next customer, satisfied that she had served me well.
Grateful for her experience, I walked away feeling lighter. She had saved me hours! Certainly any of my experienced seamstress friends could have done the same.
I had walked into the fabric store with a solution in mind. I had not been seeking advice. What if I had brought along a measuring tape and measured the button myself? My timely encounter with the clerk would never have happened. Somehow my unpreparedness had worked in my favor. I had been handed a gift, a gift of having my eyes opened to a way of doing something that would not have occurred to me on my own.
To be prepared and to figure things out on my own is my default way of doing things. To ask for help is not my first inclination. Yet, as I drove home, I was basking in the gift of time I had been given, grateful that I had been saved from the frustration of a tedious task.
Still in the car, I continued to ponder, and to celebrate. My piano teacher saves me hours, too. And my spiritual director. I considered how spiritual direction has speeded me on my journey. So much more direct, so much more efficient compared to when I was meandering about on my own. I had been like an inexperienced seamstress, cutting off buttons, trimming off unnecessary threads, and then stitching seven new buttons onto a sweater rather than sewing a few stitches into two or three button holes.
What about you? Have you received the gift of being mentored? Are you open to asking for guidance?
