Learning To Let Othes Carry Us

I don't like asking for help, even when I need it.  I've always been this way, long before I became a pastor, but over the twenty years I've been a pastor, it seems to have gotten worse.  

I think part of it has to do with my personality.  I'm a Three on the Enneagram and an ENFP on the Myers-Briggs, which essentially means I don't want others to think I can't handle things.  The show must go on, at all costs.  

I'm fine with being vulnerable about things like faith and some aspects of life's challenges, but when it comes to being vulnerable about whether I can handle things, complete a task, or maintain my emotional equilibrium, I'm not great at sharing.  

Brene Brown speaks right into the heart of this when she writes, 

“Vulnerability sounds like truth and feels like courage. Truth and courage aren’t always comfortable, but they’re never weakness.” 

Many of us are far more comfortable helping others than receiving help ourselves.

We step in when people are hurting. We offer meals, encouragement, prayers, and support. We pride ourselves on being dependable, capable, and strong. Yet when the tables are turned and we are the ones in need, something inside us resists. We tell ourselves we should handle things alone. We do not want to burden anyone. We fear appearing weak or vulnerable.

But Scripture tells us that we were never meant to carry life entirely on our own.

In Galatians 6:2, Paul writes, “Bear one another’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.” Notice that this command requires both giving and receiving. Community cannot exist if everyone insists on being the helper all the time.

Even Jesus allowed others to care for him. Friends opened their homes to him. Women supported his ministry. Simon of Cyrene carried the cross when Jesus could no longer bear it alone (Mark 15:21). In the Garden of Gethsemane, Jesus asked his disciples to remain near him in his anguish.

There is humility in allowing ourselves to be cared for.

Brené Brown’s words remind us that vulnerability is not weakness. It is courage. Receiving help requires us to let go of the illusion that we must always be self-sufficient. It asks us to trust others enough to let them see our humanity.

The sacred ordinary teaches us that grace often arrives through people—through a phone call, a shared meal, a listening ear, or someone quietly showing up when we need them most. But if we never allow ourselves to receive help, we may miss the very grace God is trying to give.

Sometimes faith means learning not only how to serve others, but also how to let ourselves be loved when we are weary.

Prayer

Compassionate God, teach me the courage of vulnerability. Help me to release the need to appear strong all the time and to receive the care others offer with humility and gratitude. Remind me that your grace often comes through the kindness of people around me. Amen.

Reflection Questions

1. Why is it difficult for you to ask for or receive help?
2. When has someone’s care for you become a source of healing or grace?
3. How might receiving help deepen your relationships with others?