Finding belonging through responsibility became my strength as I met each challenge throughout the day. What I had conveniently refused to see was that this kind of responsibility required an agreement with my own suffering—a sacrifice I believed was noble and “what a dependable person should do.” This mindset led me down many narrow paths of self-imposed duty and critical judgment toward others, taking on tasks that were never meant for me to bear. Filled with anger, weary, and resentful, my personal well-being took a back seat to every cause of “well-doing.”
Without a place to receive, these verses became my song:
“There is a way that seems right to a man,
but its end is the way of death.
Even in laughter the heart may sorrow,
and the end of mirth may be grief.
The backslider in heart will be filled with his own ways,
but a good man will be satisfied from above.”
— Proverbs 14:12–14
Seeing this verse in the light of new understanding has enlarged my perspective. Long ago, I had learned that God wants us to align with His agenda, which includes waiting on His timing as best suited for each situation. Sometimes that means pressing into a tight timeline and toward others, and at other times, waiting patiently for instruction on what should come next.
Healing begins when we come face to face with pain—most of it long forgotten or vigorously avoided within and around us. As a child, I took on the role of “filling in” for what was missing. The problem was that long after that “something” was no longer needed, I still lived by that model. When others didn’t step up, I did. When someone needed guidance, I answered. Whether I liked it or not, I lived in a place of isolation and loneliness as a very responsible individual. Eventually, grief and a deep sense of not belonging crept into every significant relationship.
There are two sides to responsibility. One side builds a platform to support situations, and others; the other, less obvious side, is receptivity—learning the art of accepting the space we’re given and trusting that God’s best is possible. Sometimes, the building blocks come through others who help erect the platform we need. The foundation is often a new level of trust in relationship.
Receiving is something many Christians rarely pursue. It’s often misunderstood as selfishness—but it’s not. In fact, when we cannot accept a gift from another, we cut off our ability to receive even from the hand of God. He uses all kinds of relationships and circumstances to draw us closer to His love. Isaiah 64:6 has never felt so true: when we try to clothe our good deeds in the rags of self-righteousness, we forget who we are and lose sight of our true design.
Turning toward the heavenly source—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit—has never been more important than it is now. As believers and citizens of the Kingdom of God, our design must be cleansed and free, dedicated fully to His purposes. From that position, we fulfill the abundance of His joy, lacking nothing good.
“Fear not, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the Kingdom.”
— Luke 12:32
How many times have we tried, in our own strength, to make something “work” instead of trusting His plan?
I’m speaking to all who have walked the journey out from under the shadow of abuse and come to recognize that it is not “normal” to suffer. Though some suffering is indeed directed by God for our good, much of it is born from wounded duty, relentless lack, and the belief that responsibility itself is “noble.”
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