Being the Ears

There are many ways to serve God, some more active than others, but all are important.

Last week, my family attended a mission work camp in South Carolina. This was my second year. I was no longer a rookie. I went in with skills and confidence that I didn’t have the year before. When we visited the two houses we would be working on, only one needed a roof. That was the once I chose.

I had learned a fair amount about roofing the previous year and I was ready to go. Monday, I got up on the roof and got busy and we got a lot done, so much so, that it was decided to rotate some newbies to the roof on Tuesday.

Our crew was a little larger than we actually needed and all of the grown ups, me included, believed it was better for the youth to be busy at work on the roof, than the adults.

I was grounded and a little bummed. I had been waiting for an entire year to serve as the hands and feet of Christ and now I wasn’t even on the roof.

But, God had other plans for me this year.

Our homeowner was named Miss Annie. She was disabled from years of seizures. Her body was week and she had to use arm crutches, but her spirit was strong. Everyday, she had one of the teens staying in her house to escort her with her wheelchair, outside to our work trailer. She would then sit down and visit for a couple of hours.

She had a heartbreaking story to tell and she really wanted to share it. She told of a family riddled with mental illness. She told of the death of a disabled grandchild, right there in the house we were roofing. She told of the death of her mother, also in that house and of the stroke that left her daughter disabled.

She talked about poverty and the inability to afford physical therapy, but she also talked of hope.

She said that when her roof began to leak, she bought buckets and she sought help. She said for three years, she had been passed over; and the rains kept coming, so she bought more buckets and kept praying.

She told me that she hoped to get stronger so that she could volunteer at the hospital to visit with people who were up there for days on end like she had been with her granddaughter. She said that people who took the time to visit with her had been the only bright spot some days.

She told me that our group was an answer to her prayers.

Miss Annie made me laugh and she made me want to cry. Some of her stories were hard to hear, but she needed to tell them. She needed for someone to sit with her and listen. She needed for someone to care about her journey.

God used Miss Annie last week to teach me that the ears are just as important to the Body of Christ as the hands and feet are. He taught me that sometimes we can do just as much good planted firmly on the ground as we can high in the air. He taught me that attentively listening to someone can sometimes accomplish the same amount of repair as a hammer can.

We all have a part to play. Sometimes I need reminding. Perhaps you did too.

Have an awesome day!

Wendy 🙂