Christians can often berate one another for being terrible at encouragement. In fact, I think that's a lazy cliche - in my experience Christians can be the most intentionally encouraging people around. A couple of years ago I helped to run a small online encouragement initiative called #LoveMonday, which didn't quite go viral, but in it's own small way proved that as a community we tend to be motivated towards building one another up. 1 Thessalonians 5 v 11 is an oft-quoted imperative to do so, and for the most part we're obedient. But there's a problem.

We can give it out, but we can't take it.

How easy do you find it to receive positive words from others? If you struggle, you're probably in the majority; many of us can identify with the feelings of awkwardness and concerns about our own pride that come when someone says something nice about us.

You know the drill. A friend summons up the courage to clamber over the wall of social weirdness in order to look you in the eyes and say: 'you're great at that', or 'you did really well.' Instinctively you shoot out a metaphorical hand to dismiss it. 'Oh no, not really' you respond, perhaps adding a joke or a reference to something else you did less well.

By behaving like this, we allow ourselves to believe that we're responding with humility, keeping pride and even arrogance at bay. It's like we're scared that to actually take that compliment or encouragement on board would prove we're on some kind of permanent ego trip. We convince ourselves that being bad at receiving words of affirmation is actually a virtue. 

This problem is worse in the UK, where our highly-cynical culture sees American-style positivity and cheeriness as vacuous and fake. We're conditioned to suspicion where compliments are concerned; doubting either the motives of the compliment-er or the character of the compliment-ee. We're much more used to seeing people knock one another down than build each other up.

We might see this as little more than a peculiarly British character quirk, but I think it's more than that. I think that behind our bashfulness and protestation, there are some deeper problems to address. For a start, if I'm unable to take an encouragement, it's likely that in some way I'll actually belittle or discourage the person speaking to me. They go away feeling that they haven't been heard, and perhaps less likely to speak up like that again.

Second, ignoring the good often goes hand-in-hand with dwelling on the bad. I know that if I write an article which receives nine positive pieces of feedback and one criticism, I'll focus my attention almost entirely on the criticism. I'll barely register that 90 per cent of those comments contained praise or appreciation. I'd wager I'm not the only one who processes feedback in this uneven way, and the key to feeling less bruised by the punches almost certainly lies in getting better at receiving the hugs.

Finally, deflecting encouragement demonstrates a lack of appropriate vulnerability. If people know that I'm prepared to make myself vulnerable, even in a moment when I'm receiving encouragement, then they're more likely to show me the same, and indeed to trust me. Instead of making a joke, it's surely better to respond to encouragment with thanks and appreciation. Doing so can even be an encouragement in itself.

The New Testament repeatedly calls us to encourage one another; to 'stir up one another to love and good works' (Hebrews 10:24); to 'keep loving one another earnestly' (1 Peter 4:8). It's an important virtue, but its impact can be limited if we don't also know how to receive it. So don't grow tired of building one another up – but don't miss the opportunity when someone seeks to build up you.

Martin Saunders is a Contributing Editor for Christian Today and the Deputy CEO of Youthscape. You can follow him on Twitter: @martinsaunders