I almost dropped a Hail Mary pass. Okay, I’ve never caught a football in my life. But it’s the perfect metaphor for what happened with my husband, Bobby. I ran headfirst into a realization I probably should’ve learned a long time ago: why it is so hard to receive than to give. And as it turns out, that’s an especially inconvenient lesson to learn right around Valentine’s Day.
In a 1975 playoff game, the Dallas Cowboys were down 14–10 against the Minnesota Vikings. With just twenty‑four seconds left in the fourth quarter, Cowboys quarterback Roger Staubach threw a miracle, game‑winning pass to wide receiver Drew Pearson. Afterward, Staubach said, “I closed my eyes and said a Hail Mary.” The term stuck, and the play went down as one of the most famous in NFL history.
Lately, I’ve been fascinated—and not in a flattering, self‑congratulatory way—by my own tendency to turn down gifts.
This year, Bobby enthusiastically agreed to attend a cooking class with me for Valentine’s Day. On a workday. He does not cook. At all. But we’d decided to skip physical gifts and do something together instead. Cooking is my thing, and I was thrilled. We looked at the website, talked through the menu, and honestly, it was fun before we even stepped foot in the class.
The Near Fumble
Then Bobby slipped on black ice in our driveway and fell hard. He was in significant pain every day afterward. During our Friday morning routine, I reminded him about the cooking class the next evening. Almost immediately, guilt crept in. He’d be working all day and then going to the class—not exactly the relaxing Valentine’s vibe. So I said, “It’s okay if we don’t go tomorrow. It’s not that important.” His face responded before his mouth did. We exchanged a few words—not heated and not terribly long, as is our way—but it landed.
A little later he said, “Okay… what do you think just happened there?” I told him I thought he’d misread my offer. I was trying to be caring. He explained that what he heard was that I didn’t actually care about the date. Then he said something that stopped me cold.
“It’s my gift to you. And sacrifice is part of the gift.”
My immediate internal response was, Erm… what part of a date with me is a sacrifice? Thankfully, I didn’t say it out loud. Bad news: pride is still alive and well. Good news: I didn’t escalate the situation. Next goal? Not even thinking it. Progress—but clearly still under construction.
As this replayed in my head, I realized this wasn’t a one‑off moment. It pointed to something deeper—something I’ve been carrying around for years.
Here it is, plain and simple:
Somewhere along the way, I learned that it’s selfish to receive.
When someone offers me a truly generous kindness, a gift, or a compliment that squarely lands, I feel a quiet internal squirm. Somewhere deep down, I think accepting it would be… selfish. What I realized this week—maybe for the first time—is that while giving is beautiful, prioritizing giving over receiving has consequences too.
Bobby was throwing me a beautiful, winning pass. And in marriage, those shared gifts—kindness, affirmation, time, presence, and yes, even sacrifice—are how you win. They’re how you build something honest and lasting. And I very nearly let that ball hit the ground. So I started thinking about why some of us struggle so much with receiving.
Why It is so Hard to Receive Than to Give
Let me be really clear here, because this matters.
Selflessness is not optional. It’s not negotiable. And it’s not situational.
Jesus doesn’t say, “Be selfless unless the other person is wrong.” He says to turn the other cheek. To go the extra mile. He says to love when it costs us something—especially when it costs us something. Selflessness is always right. Always appropriate. In every situation.
If you don’t believe like I do, that’s okay. I love you. You’re welcome here, you’re my friend, and I hope you feel the same way. This is my space to share what I’m learning. I welcome yours in the comments.
So no, this isn’t me dialing anything back. What I’m realizing is something bigger—and honestly harder to do, at least for me.
Sometimes, my reluctance to receive isn’t humility at all. Sometimes it’s actually preventing someone else from living out the very selflessness Jesus asks of them.
When Bobby chose to show up, to push through pain, to give his time and effort as a gift—that was his act of selflessness. And when I tried to wave it away, I wasn’t being noble. I was interrupting his opportunity to give.
That’s the tension.
Selflessness remains the standard. But when refusing to receive blocks another person’s sacrifice, love, or generosity, we’re no longer protecting humility—we’re quietly standing in the way of it.
Happy Valentine’s Month 💕 I hope that you are able to give and receive gifts with your love, your family, and/or your friends generously this season.
For you romantics: You gotta see this playful and so romantic video of Sting singing “Funny Valentine” to his wife. Chris Botti accompanies. It’s kind funny, too.
Here’s a post I wrote about giving experiences instead of physical gifts, Hope you like it.