Sweatless Service

The devastating injury of a friend recently provoked my thinking about the quality of life needed to serve others. It is amazing how the simplest of words can become bloated with implication. When I think of "service" I usually associate it with effort rendered which is mostly physical in nature. It is action that makes us use our muscles and sweat. It leads to physical fatigue because we are helping a friend move, or mowing a lawn, or cleaning a house, or preparing a meal, or changing the oil in a car.

I wondered, as I considered a friend who is unable to use arms and legs to do any of those things, if when we come to that kind of crossroads, our ability to serve is extinguished. I wondered it about myself. Would I still have the capacity to serve others? Would I sense that my purpose in life had been severely diminished?

Counter-arguments quickly came to mind:

"I can minister through speaking encouragement."

"I can serve others as I teach."

"I can have an impact through prayer."

The arguments made sense, but they still seemed a bit hollow. And then I was ministered to by a friend who was flat on his back and virtually unable to move anything but his eyes, lips and soul. I had physically gone to the aid of a friend to serve, and I emerged having been served. I was lifted up. My faith was renewed. I was made to think.

Attending to the needs of others through physical ministry is certainly an important calling for all of us who are able-bodied. But the power of ministry rendered through a prayerful spirit, wise words, and a caring soul is nourishing to the bone. I am ashamed that I do not care for others better in "sweatless" ways. The opportunities for ministry have multiplied before the eyes of my heart, now, for there are some needs the hands and feet can never meet.