I stood looking out of the window over my daughter’s kitchen sink. Watery, late April morning sunshine gave such pale light that it not only gave little warmth but seemed to leach the color from the backyard pine trees and the mud-rutted driveway. Three cars were parked near the house. One belonged to me, and the other two belonged to friends of my daughter. They were busy cleaning the house and doing her laundry so she could take care of her newborn baby. Three of my grandchildren sat at the kitchen table playing cards. Three others sat in the living room and the two-year-old stood next to her mother watching her nurse the baby.

Only just last week, the spring air felt more friendly. Warm, happy afternoon sunshine flooded into my dining room as my daughter gathered her children in preparation for leaving. At the door she stopped and said, “Is it okay if we drop off the kids on our way to the hospital to have the baby? They want to come with us because they said it was tradition.” I laughingly gave my consent. After all, it was my tradition, too!

The following week, our whole world turned upside down. My daughter’s husband died in a freak accident and their baby was born. Suddenly, people we usually only saw at church, weddings, and at birthday parties brought casseroles, salads, and desserts. They were coming to clean her house, help with the many other chores a mother has in raising a big family, and to keep her company.

The phone began to ring just as my daughter walked into the kitchen with the baby on her shoulder. While patting the baby’s back, she answered it. I could tell the person on the other end of the line was offering help and checking when it would be convenient for her to come. After saying good-bye to the caller, my daughter came to stand at the counter with me. Maybe more to herself than to me, she pondered, “Why is it so hard to accept help? People from my parish are helping me so much! I appreciate the help, but I feel so…” She didn’t have to finish that sentence. I understood.

Receiving is hard. It makes a person feel humble and vulnerable. Most people want to immediately return the favor, to repay the debt. Surrendering to that desire to accept help offered in times of loss and deep need takes courage.

Wishing I had the wisdom of Solomon, I suggested, “Maybe the Lord is giving special graces to you with each help you receive. You have been generous and loving to people over the years and now is your turn to receive. I think the Lord wants you to humbly accept the help.”

One of the most famous quotes in this world might be, “It is more blessed to give than receive.” In fact, giving rather than receiving is a strong theme throughout the Bible. But where does that put the receivers?

I’ve read that if only the givers are blessed, it would be like a person only exhaling. We all know that wouldn’t work out very well. For the blessings to follow the laws of nature, we need to consider that to receive is like inhaling! If you have one, you must have the other.

When grieving the loss of a loved one, it is hard to think straight. Nothing tastes right and some foods get stuck in your throat. The color of the world around us appears dull. The future stretches ahead vacant and frightening. I know, because I lost my husband suddenly and unexpectedly in April of 2007.

In the past decade, the color of the world has returned to my daughter’s and my life. We get hungry and eat. Life goes on despite the loss that stays forever on our minds. Most people understand that there is grace in giving. But there is another grace, one that is seldom mentioned. It is given to those who receive.