Why I Couldn’t Give Grace—Until Burnout Forced Me to Receive It

 “But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.”
— Romans 5:8

In the spring of 2017, I found myself halfway across the world, trekking through the Himalayas with a group of 11 new friends from my church. We were there on a mission — not a vacation — to share the love of Jesus with people living in remote, hard-to-reach villages of Nepal. For six days, we carried everything we needed on our backs, walking from one village to the next, with aching feet and tired souls, hoping to simply be the hands and feet of Jesus.

I was 38, in the best shape of my life physically — but absolutely unprepared for the kind of endurance this trip would demand, not just physically, but mentally, emotionally, and spiritually.

We visited temples in Kathmandu, watched riverside cremations, and witnessed spiritual darkness that I could feel in my bones. We filtered water drop by drop, trekked for hours, ate rice and eggs, and learned to use squat toilets in the bush. We slept in uncomfortable beds, dealt with creepy bugs, cold showers, and the kind of fatigue that makes your body feel like it might give out. And yet, the mission — the people — were worth every ounce of it.

By the time we made it back to the U.S., I was completely depleted. Physically wrecked from an intestinal parasite, spiritually and emotionally drained, and wildly sleep-deprived — but even then, I didn’t stop. I kept going to work. I kept showing up at CrossFit. I kept pushing myself, refusing to quit or rest. My body was begging for recovery, but I wouldn’t allow it. Why? Because somewhere deep inside, I believed rest was weakness. I didn’t know how to give myself grace.

Why Is It So Hard to Give Ourselves Grace?

We’re quick to tell friends, “You deserve a break,” or “It’s okay to rest.” But when it’s us who are overwhelmed, our inner voice is far less kind. We question our energy, our commitment, and even our worth. We believe the lie that rest is failure. That slowing down means falling behind. That we are what we do.

But that’s not what God says.

As Kelly Needham beautifully puts it, “Our purpose in life is not to do things for God. It is to simply know God.” And through knowing Him, we begin to understand how to receive the grace He offers so freely — grace that we can then extend to ourselves and to others.

The Lesson of Grace

A few years before that trek, I was in a training session for a new business I was starting. The leader, a man known for his deep love for people and his blunt honesty, asked us a question I’ll never forget:

“What is your unfair advantage?”
The one God-given gift that sets you apart — and the potential downside of that very gift.

My answer was easy: self-discipline.
And the drawback? Rigidity. Callousness. (Ouch.)

He looked me in the eye and simply said, “Grace.”
He must’ve repeated it ten times: “Grace. Grace. Grace.”
He told me to pray for the ability to give grace to others. And that’s exactly what I began to do.

But I soon realized — I couldn’t give others grace because I hadn’t yet learned how to receive it for myself.

Grace: Unearned, Undeserved, Unlimited

The truth of Scripture became personal to me:

“For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God.” (Ephesians 2:8)

“If by grace, then it cannot be based on works.” (Romans 11:6)

Grace is God's unmerited favor — love we didn’t earn and never could. It’s the foundation of our salvation, but it’s also the rhythm of our lives. It’s what enables us to fall short, get back up, and try again. Grace says, You don’t have to prove anything. You are already loved. 

It’s taken me years — and plenty of physical pain, emotional struggle, and sheer exhaustion — to learn how to give myself grace. And even now, I still slip. I still push. I still try to do it all. But God keeps gently bringing me back to Himself — back to rest, back to grace.

When Grace Looks Like Limitation

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve had to face my limitations — and instead of resisting them, I’ve started to see them as gifts. I don’t have the capacity I used to, and maybe that’s a good thing. Because now I’m learning to live slower, deeper, and more aligned with the calling God has for me.

And somewhere in that journey, I’ve discovered this truth:

I wouldn’t trade youth for wisdom.
I wouldn’t trade my pain for the purpose it’s given me.
And I wouldn’t trade today’s deeper faith for yesterday’s false strength.

Grace Upon Grace

“From His fullness we have all received, grace upon grace.” (John 1:16)

God doesn’t stop at enough. He gives us grace upon grace — layers of kindness and mercy that wash over our mistakes, our exhaustion, our striving. He knows what we need, even when we don’t. And through His Spirit working in us, we are being shaped, refined, and made new — not through our effort, but through His grace.

So today, let this truth settle into your heart:

•  You don’t have to earn rest.
•  You don’t have to do more to be loved more.
•  You don’t have to prove your worth.

Your calling starts with being loved by God, not working for Him. And that love? It comes with grace. Always.

Grace for your body.
Grace for your mind.
Grace for your soul.
Grace upon grace.