Learning to Receive: Part 3 of the “Move, So the Miracle Can Happen” series

We pray for blessings. We manifest abundance. We journal about love, peace, and joy. But when those very things show up, how often do we actually let them in?

Receiving sounds simple, but for many of us, it’s one of the hardest spiritual practices. Why? Because we’ve been conditioned to believe that worthiness is tied to work. That we have to grind, hustle, and earn every good thing. And even when the blessing comes with no strings attached, we feel guilty. We question if we deserve it. We downplay it. We push it away.

But what if being a good receiver is just as powerful as being a hard worker? What if the very thing you’ve been praying for is waiting on you to open your hands instead of clenching your fists?

Receiving Requires Softness

We live in a culture that celebrates strength—but not softness. We’re told to “keep it together,” to stay strong, to always be the giver, the caretaker, the one pouring into others. And while giving is beautiful, it can also become a shield. When you’re always giving, you never have to risk vulnerability.

Receiving is vulnerable. It means you’re open. It means you’re willing to be seen and cared for. It means you’re letting yourself be chosen instead of doing all the choosing.

And I’ll be honest—it took me a long time to get comfortable with that. To believe that I don’t have to be strong all the time. To allow someone to hold me, pour into me, pray for me, or even give me a compliment without me brushing it off or saying, “You didn’t have to.”

Because maybe they did have to. Maybe that’s their assignment. And by refusing to receive, you’re blocking not only your blessing but theirs, too.

Receiving is Not Passive. It’s Powerful.

Don’t confuse receiving with doing nothing. Receiving is active. It’s choosing to trust that you are worthy of what’s arriving. It’s choosing to stay open even when it feels uncomfortable. It’s choosing to not sabotage the very thing you’ve asked for.

We pray for opportunities and then talk ourselves out of them.

We ask for love and then question every good thing someone does for us.

We want abundance and then tell ourselves it’s “too much” or “not for us.”

This is why receiving is a practice. It’s not about doing more—it’s about unlearning the lies that tell you you’re not enough.

When You Don’t Receive, You Block the Flow

Think about it: if you’re always giving and never receiving, the energy stops with you. It’s like trying to inhale without exhaling—it just doesn’t work. There has to be a flow. A cycle of giving and receiving. A rhythm.

The Universe, God, Spirit—whatever you call it—works in cycles of flow. The blessings meant for you are looking for open hands. And you can’t hold on to fear and faith at the same time.

How to Practice Receiving

Learning to receive is like building a muscle. It starts small. Here are a few gentle ways to begin:

  • Say “thank you” without deflecting. When someone gives you a compliment, receive it fully. No “oh, this old thing?”—just “thank you.”

  • Allow help. You don’t have to do everything alone. Let someone pour into you without feeling like you owe them something.

  • Celebrate your wins. Even the small ones. Stop brushing them off like they don’t matter. They do.

  • Be open to unexpected blessings. Sometimes the things you need won’t show up how you pictured them. Stay open.

Receiving is an energy. It’s an openness. It’s the quiet confidence that says, “I am worthy of this.”

A Final Reflection

Ask yourself:

  • Where am I blocking the blessings I’ve prayed for?

  • What would it feel like to be fully open to love, support, and abundance?

  • Do I believe I’m worthy of receiving with ease?

The truth is, receiving is not about “deserving.” It’s about aligning. It’s about trusting that you don’t have to earn what’s already meant for you.

Let your heart soften. Let your hands open.

Because when you can truly receive, you move in rhythm with the divine.

You stop chasing and start attracting.

And life—beautifully, finally—flows.

Next
Next

The Gift of Surrender: Part 2 of the “Move, So the Miracle Can Happen” series