Who Was There for Bob?

Back in high school, I got an assignment that stuck with me. We had to plan our week and then track what really happened. I figured it would be simple because I knew my schedule: classes, practices, extracurriculars. But nothing went as I expected.

Instead, I ended up driving my mom eight hours from Illinois to her sister’s funeral in Cleveland.

My aunt had passed away from cancer. I stood with my mom, my cousins, and the rest of the family, all of us feeling the weight of the loss. I did my best to comfort them. The trip home didn’t go smoothly either. Our car broke down, and we had to stay overnight while it was repaired.

When Life Doesn’t Go as Planned

That experience stayed with me. Life doesn’t always follow the plan. Routines get interrupted. Even while grieving, I still had to keep up with my studies. Some teachers were kind and gave me less work, but the responsibilities didn’t disappear. I adjusted. I got my lessons done on the road.

What I didn’t see at the time was something else: I had spent the whole trip taking care of my mom and the family around me. I was grieving too, but instead of taking time to grieve, I was the helper, the comforter.

Receiving Counseling

Years later, I sat in a counselor’s office and told that story. When I finished, he asked me a question that moved me to tears:

“And who was there for Bob?”

I had supported my family, but no one had stopped to ask how I was doing. The question hit harder than I expected — because it wasn’t just about that trip or a funeral. It was about a pattern I’d been living for years.

Giver, Not a Receiver

Giving has always come easily to me. Receiving is hard.

I never liked celebrating my birthday. As a kid, I threw tantrums when birthdays didn’t go as I hoped. In college, I tried to take control of the problem by doing the giving. I would ask women out and treat them on my birthday. I thought I had found a workaround, especially since Jesus said, “It is more blessed to give than to receive” (Acts 20:35). But it didn’t always work out. Sometimes someone canceled or didn’t show up.

Eventually I stopped telling people when my birthday was. If someone found out, I made sure they knew I didn’t want any celebration. I could pour myself into making other people’s birthdays memorable. I did some elaborate and generous things for other people’s birthdays. But my own? I’d rather ignore it.

A friend called me out on it once. She said something that brought the counselor’s question right back: Who was there for Bob? She told me I struggled to receive, and she was right. Giving was safe. Receiving felt unworthy and uneasy.

Shame: The Root Cause

I’ve had to sit with why that is.

I’ve learned that it comes from feelings of shame — from not feeling accepted, from feeling unworthy of people’s time and attention. In recovery groups, I watched people break free from addiction through God’s grace. I struggled too. I would try hard, do well for a while, and then slip up. When that happened, I’d call a recovery partner to confess. They would encourage me and show me love and grace.

But shame pulls you down. When you’re doing well, you feel good. When you slip, shame sets in — and instead of pushing you away from the sin, it pulls you back toward it. The sin offers a brief escape from shame, a moment of feeling good. But the feeling doesn’t last. Afterward, you feel even more ashamed, even less worthy of love.

Healing from Shame

Here is what I’ve come to understand from my own experience.

I lost sight of my true identity. I started to judge myself by my performance. When I gave, and people received it well, I felt worthy. When I failed, I felt worthless.

The only thing that breaks that cycle is not willpower. It’s not discipline. It is love. My accountability partners loved me. They accepted me for who I was and reminded me I was still loved by God — not because I had earned it, but because he gave it.

That is the identity we all need. Not the one formed by our performance, our failures, or our peers’ voice — but the one given to us before any of that happened. We are beloved children of God. Sons and daughters of the King, created in his image, bought by his Son, being made new.

Grace: Learning to Receive

In a merit-based world, unearned love is almost impossibly hard to accept. Grace is unearned. It is freely given. That’s a hard thing to receive. We don’t earn God’s love; we receive it as a gift.

I know this truth in my mind. My heart still struggles to feel it. I’ve achieved things in my life: salutatorian of my high school, trophies for cross-country and road races, strong reviews for my book and my work. I receive praise from peers and friends, and all of it feels earned. But when I fail, I want to crawl into a hole and hide. I don’t want my mistakes known. I fear all the praise will turn to condemnation.

But: “There is therefore now no condemnation to them which are in Christ Jesus” (Romans 8:1).

I need to believe this. I need to accept it and remind myself often. God loves me not because I earned it, but because he gives it freely.