I have always found it far easier to show up for someone else than to let someone show up for me. Offering help feels like strength. Accepting it, for a long time, felt like admitting weakness I was not ready to name out loud.
That imbalance finally caught up with me during a hard season when a friend showed up with dinner, uninvited, the way I had done for others so many times. My instinct was to protest that I was fine. Instead I let her in, and let the meal be exactly what it was — burden-bearing, mutual, exactly as Galatians 6:2 describes it. Receiving help gracefully turned out to be its own kind of ministry, one I am still learning to practice as generously as I try to give it.