When a Blessing Feels Like a Burden: Dealing with Guilt and Shame Over How We Got Here
- Dr Clency Ngary
- Mar 3
- 5 min read
Judas Iscariot got what he wanted—thirty pieces of silver, a price for the betrayal of his friend. It was money in his hands, a tangible reward for his actions. But the moment he had it, it became heavier than he could bear.
The regret didn’t hit him all at once. Maybe at first, he justified it—he told himself that Jesus would find a way out of this, that things wouldn’t go as far as they did. But as the events unfolded, as he saw the ropes tighten around Jesus' wrists, as he watched his friend dragged away like a criminal, the weight of what he had done crashed down on him.
Suddenly, the silver felt cursed. The very thing he had traded his loyalty for became a reminder of his deepest shame. He tried to undo it, tried to give it back, but some choices can’t be undone.
The priests didn’t want the money back. "What is that to us?" they said, their indifference making his torment worse. He had betrayed the one person who truly saw him, truly loved him, and now he couldn't live with himself. Judas had secured the reward, but lost his soul in the process.
And in his despair, he made the ultimate mistake—he let his guilt take him out.
How many of us have stood in that same torment? Maybe we haven’t betrayed the Messiah for silver, but we have compromised our values, abandoned our convictions, and sacrificed something sacred to get what we wanted. We’ve made decisions we can’t undo. And now, instead of feeling joy over what we have, we feel the weight of regret crushing us.
So what do you do when the thing you wanted most has now become a source of pain?
How do you move forward when shame whispers that you don’t deserve to?
Because here’s the truth: Judas’ story didn’t have to end the way it did. His mistake wasn’t greater than grace—it was his belief that it was.
And if you’re carrying guilt over how you got here, if you’re struggling to embrace a blessing because of the way it came, you don’t have to let shame write the ending of your story.
1. Guilt Says, “I Got What I Wanted, But I Lost Myself.”
Sometimes, the hardest thing to admit is: I didn’t get here the right way.
Maybe you:
Took shortcuts that went against your values.
Betrayed someone to get ahead.
Chose comfort over your original vision.
Settled for something when you once swore you wouldn’t.
Now, the blessing doesn’t feel pure. It feels tainted by the compromises you made to get it. And that guilt makes it hard to fully receive it.
But here’s the truth: Holding onto guilt won’t change the past.
You can punish yourself for how you got here, or you can acknowledge it, take responsibility, and decide who you want to be moving forward.
2. Shame Says, “I Don’t Deserve This.”
Guilt is about what we did. Shame is about who we are.
Maybe you feel like you don’t deserve to enjoy what you have because:
You had to hurt someone else to get it.
You know someone more “worthy” could have had it instead.
You told yourself you would never do what you did—but you did.
Shame makes us believe that we are permanently disqualified from joy because of our past mistakes.
But here’s the thing: Self-punishment doesn’t lead to redemption.
If we stay stuck in shame, we won’t just reject the blessing—we’ll sabotage it. We’ll convince ourselves we don’t deserve it and find ways to ruin it, just so reality matches our guilt-ridden mindset.
But what if, instead of running from the blessing, you let it change you?
3. The Regret Paradox: When We Realize We Wanted the Right Thing the Wrong Way
Regret is a tricky thing. Sometimes, we regret what we did. Other times, we regret how we did it.
Maybe you wanted love but settled for manipulation to keep someone close.
Maybe you wanted success but compromised your values to climb the ladder.
Maybe you wanted stability but traded your true passion for safety.
The paradox? We got what we wanted, but we lost something along the way. And now, we wonder—was it worth it?
The truth is, regret is only useful if it leads to change.
You can sit in regret, replaying every choice over and over.Or you can take accountability, learn from the past, and decide that the next chapter will be written differently.
Because the real question isn’t “Did I make mistakes?”—we all do. The real question is:
“Now that I know better, what will I do with this blessing?”
4. Healing Means Facing the Truth—But Not Living in It Forever
If guilt and shame are keeping you from embracing where you are now, it’s time to face them—but also time to move beyond them.
Here’s how:
Acknowledge the truth. Don’t sugarcoat it. Admit what you did, where you compromised, and how it changed you. Honesty is the first step to healing.
Make amends where you can. If your choices hurt others, own it. Apologize. Set things right if possible. But also know that some wounds take time—and some apologies won’t be accepted.
Forgive yourself. Self-condemnation won’t undo the past. But learning from it can shape the future.
Commit to living differently. The best way to honor your regrets is to let them shape a better version of you.
Because at the end of the day, redemption isn’t about undoing the past—it’s about transforming the future.
5. What If the Blessing Is Still Meant for You?
Here’s the hardest thing to accept: Just because you made mistakes doesn’t mean the blessing isn’t still yours.
What if the relationship you compromised to keep could still become healthy?
What if the dream you cut corners to achieve could still be redeemed?
What if the opportunity you feel unworthy of is actually something you’re meant to have?
We don’t always get things the right way—but we can choose to steward them the right way now.
Maybe this isn’t about rejecting the blessing. Maybe it’s about becoming the person who can truly appreciate it.
Final Thoughts: Turning Regret Into Redemption
If you’ve been struggling to embrace something good in your life because of guilt, shame, or regret—know this:
Your past doesn’t have to define your future.Your mistakes don’t have to cancel your blessings.Your regrets can either break you or build you into someone better.
So, what will you choose?
You can spend your days wishing you had done things differently.
Or you can say:
I can’t rewrite how I got here, but I can decide how I move forward.
And maybe—just maybe—the blessing you fought so hard for isn’t meant to be rejected.
It’s meant to be redeemed.
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