Sharon moved around the room collecting permission slips from the youth group. When Hannah handed hers in, Ellie turned to her, eyebrows raised. “You’re going to help work on the house?”

            Hannah nodded. “I am. I feel like God wants me to be there.”

            Sharon, overhearing, moved back toward the two girls. “I’m sure there will be something for everyone to do on this missions project.”

            “But isn’t it a lot of physical work?” Ellie asked.

            “I expect it will be. But I believe Hannah’s right. God wants her to be there.”

            Ellie’s comments did not faze Hannah. Most people underestimated her. They took one look at her wheelchair and assumed she couldn’t do much. Sure, she had limitations, and most physical activity left her weak, but if God wanted her on this missions project, she was going.

            The morning of the trip, Hannah’s dad drove her to the mission project site. “I’m proud of you, Hannah. It’s wonderful you’re joining the other kids to help Mrs. Elverson.”

            “Sharon told us she isn’t able to do much around her house anymore and could use our help.”

            “It’s always good to help others,” her dad replied. “I’m sure you’ll have a great time.”

            When everyone arrived, Sharon introduced the team of ten high school students to Mrs. Elverson, who greeted them all with a warm smile. Sharon and Dave, the youth leaders, distributed lists to the kids. Some would repair the fence, some would mow and weed the yard, and others would power wash the siding. Inside, the house needed cleaning, an old carpet ripped out, and other physical tasks. Hannah looked over the list and her heart sank. There was nothing on here that would be easy for her to do. Her dad read over the list and decided for her. “Hannah, for now, please sit with Mrs. Elverson on the porch.”

            “Oh, that would be lovely,” Mrs. Elverson said. Hannah’s dad helped her up onto one of the two porch chairs, and she sat with Mrs. Elverson. All around them, the other kids buzzed with activity. Rodney manned the lawnmower while Steve weed wacked. Ellie and Tanya planted new flowers around the mailbox. Meanwhile, Hannah and Mrs. Elverson chatted.

            “Out of all the children here, you must understand me the best,” Mrs. Elverson said.

            “What do you mean?” Hannah asked.

            “Do people take one look at you and assume you have nothing to contribute?”

            Hannah bit her lip. “Sometimes.”

            “That happens to me, too,” Mrs. Elverson said. “Yes, I’m old, but I’m not dead. I can’t run like I used to, or even walk like I used to, but that’s not everything. Do you know what I can still do?” She leaned towards Hannah as if she had a secret. “I paint.”
            Hannah brightened. “You do? I love painting.”

            “Oh, I knew I liked you,” Mrs. Elverson said. “What do you like to paint?”

            “Landscapes, mostly, but I try to paint people sometimes. That’s harder, I think.”

            “I’d love to see your paintings sometime,” Mrs. Elverson said. “Did you know I used to teach art at the community college?”

            “No, that’s wonderful,” Hannah said.

            “Wait here. I want to show you something.”

            Soon, Mrs. Elverson and Hannah were paging through her portfolio. She’d given many paintings away as gifts, but had photographs of them all in her albums. She regaled Hannah with stories of what each painting represented. Hannah listened, enthralled. When Sharon started passing around sandwiches, Hannah blinked in surprise. They’d been chatting for hours.

            After lunch, Mrs. Elverson brought a canvas and paints out to the porch and showed Hannah some new techniques. Hannah showed Mrs. Elverson pictures of her paintings on her phone. Before long, the afternoon came to a close.

Sharon took Mrs. Elverson on a tour around the yard and the house to see all the jobs the youth had completed. “Oh my, you children are a godsend. My house hasn’t looked this good in a decade. Thank you so much.”

            On the drive home, Hannah was quiet. “How was the day?” her dad asked.

            “Mrs. Elverson was really pleased with all the work the kids did,” Hannah said. “But I feel guilty. I didn’t do any work. All I did was talk to Mrs. Elverson.” She told her dad about their shared love of painting and about the techniques she’d learned. “Honestly, I had a wonderful time. But I didn’t help at all.”
            “I’m sure Mrs. Elverson enjoyed the company,” Hannah’s dad said. “I’m glad you were there.”

            The following week at youth group, Sharon presented a slide show of before-and-after pictures of what they had accomplished at Mrs. Elverson’s house. The kids oohed and aahed at the differences. Each had been involved in their own tasks and hadn’t fully appreciated the whole picture. Hannah’s guilt magnified as she saw all the hard work. She hadn’t lifted a finger

            “All your work was a blessing to Mrs. Elverson,” Sharon said. “She sent a thank you note. Listen to what she had to say.”
            “Words cannot express how grateful I am for all the hard work of the youth. I was a very independent woman, but as I’ve aged, I can’t do what I used to. It is difficult to accept, but I am so blessed by the hardworking, caring, Christ-like group of youth. They should all be very proud of themselves. Please let them all know they acted as Christ’s hands and feet.”

            All around Hannah, the kids who took part in the work day were sitting taller, looking brighter. Ellie looked ready to burst. Well, she should. She did an amazing job of pulling all the weeds and planting new flowers. Hot tears pricked the back of Hannah’s eyes. How could she have mistaken God’s plan for her? She hadn’t helped at all.

            Sharon continued with the letter. “And while I wholeheartedly appreciate the work of the youth, I must commend the young lady Hannah who sat with me during the workday.”

            Hannah blinked in surprise. Heads turned her way.

            “While the other youth were busy working on projects, Hannah took the time to sit with me, to listen to me, and help me remember my value. I had been feeling down, lamenting what I could no longer accomplish. If Hannah hadn’t been there, I would have spent the work day sorry others had to do the work for me. Instead, Hannah allowed me to appreciate the gifts of the other children by reminding me of my worth. She reminded me how we are all given different gifts. God will do mighty work with that young lady.”

            Sharon paused and scanned the room. “Mrs. Elverson makes an excellent point. All of you who served Mrs. Elverson did so in different ways. We all have different gifts, and God doesn’t intend for us to compare ourselves to others. I pray God will continue to work through you in the gifts He’s given you.”

            Hannah’s heart swelled with love for Mrs. Elverson. Even though she wasn’t able to serve like the other kids, Mrs. Elverson made her feel whole. She vowed to go back the following weekend and paint alongside her new friend.

Corinthians 12:12-26

Just as a body, though one, has many parts, but all its many parts form one body, so it is with Christ. For we were all baptized by one Spirit so as to form one body—whether Jews or Gentiles, slave or free—and we were all given the one Spirit to drink. Even so the body is not made up of one part but of many.

Now if the foot should say, “Because I am not a hand, I do not belong to the body,” it would not for that reason stop being part of the body. And if the ear should say, “Because I am not an eye, I do not belong to the body,” it would not for that reason stop being part of the body. If the whole body were an eye, where would the sense of hearing be? If the whole body were an ear, where would the sense of smell be? 

But in fact God has placed the parts in the body, every one of them, just as he wanted them to be. If they were all one part, where would the body be? As it is, there are many parts, but one body. The eye cannot say to the hand, “I don’t need you!” And the head cannot say to the feet, “I don’t need you!” On the contrary, those parts of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable, and the parts that we think are less honorable we treat with special honor. And the parts that are unpresentable are treated with special modesty, while our presentable parts need no special treatment. But God has put the body together, giving greater honor to the parts that lacked it, so that there should be no division in the body, but that its parts should have equal concern for each other. If one part suffers, every part suffers with it; if one part is honored, every part rejoices with it.

Dear God, thank You for creating us all to be different. Please help us to remember we are different for a reason. You never intended for us all to be the same or to have the same gifts. Please help us to enjoy what makes us unique and use the gifts You have given us for Your glory. In Jesus’ name, Amen.