So we could see the power of God!

When he was born, doctors did not believe he would live long. Just thirty years before, his lifespan would have been estimated at nine years. As late as the 1980s, it would have been thought to be 25 years. Of course, standard treatment at the time was institutionalization. But his parents refused such a supposed solution, choosing instead to raise their son in the community of a large family. And rather than nine or 25, our family was blessed by Kenny Hatch for 57 years.

Kenny was born with Down's Syndrome, though at the time of his birth the cause of Down's was yet undiscovered. It would be about four years before scientists would find an extra chromosome that seemed to trigger the syndrome. Ironically, medicine has been unable to answer why it happens.

When he was young, Uncle James and Aunt Nell enrolled Kenny in school. It would not take them long, however, to discover that public education was not prepared to deal with a child like Kenny, and they were forced to bring him home. It is a shame that we do things like that, especially when we fear what we do not understand.

But I would not know him until several years later. You see, he was 21 years old when I was born. I guess that means I have known him for my whole life. As a child, I knew Kenny was different, though I did not really know why. I knew that he talked a little funny, and eventually realized that he was built a little differently. But I did not grow up seeing Kenny as someone with a disability or a handicap. I just knew him as my cousin. (Technically he was my "second" cousin, but in the south that "second" business doesn't mean anything)

My first memories of Kenny are as a working man. He was fortunate to be involved in a vocational center for adults with disabilities. It gave him purpose, it gave him a little money, and it became a social outlet for him. Social outlet is just code for "it was a place where he met girls that would become his girlfriend." In that environment, Kenny was not different. He was normal. Accepted.

He played the harmonica, maybe as good as Charlie McCoy. Well, that might be stretching it a little. Maybe it was just that he enjoyed it so much that, even if it was a little less-than-perfect, it sounded sweet.

And he smiled. Boy, did he ever! That's not to say that he was never in a bad mood, and the last few years brought their share of uncomfortable days. He could be stubborn as a mule. But he smiled a smile that would literally melt away the selfishness from your heart.

It could not have been easy for Uncle James and Aunt Nell, raising Kenny in the society of their day. Common thought was to just put him away somewhere and forget him. As bad as that may sound, common thought today is to find out about the Down's early in the pregnancy and just kill the baby before it is born. Some advance, huh? It is dressed up with the name "Selective Therapeutic Abortion," but statistics suggest that some 80 percent of women terminate their pregnancy when a diagnosis of Down's is discovered. Wow. I shudder to think of that. And it saddens me to think of what we would have missed without Kenny.

I feel compelled to tell you that Aunt Nell was a faithful caregiver to Kenny. What to some would seem a burden was just life for her. Well meaning people will say dumb things to her in days to come about this being a load off of her. Maybe those people's tongues will cleave to the roof of their mouths.

I don't know if she or Uncle James ever asked why this had happened to them, or to their son. I never asked her that. But it seems almost inevitable. That reminds me of a young man who was born blind. Jesus' followers wanted to know why. In that case, they  assumed that such an impairment was punishment for sin. They just couldn't figure out who had sinned. But Jesus had a different take on it. He told them, "This happened so the power of God could be seen in him" (John 9.3). I think that's the truth about Kenny, too. Our eyes look at Kenny and wonder if there was some great mistake somewhere. How can God's power be on display in someone born with physical problems and health issues that accompany Down's.  And then we are reminded that God's strength is made perfect in human weakness (2 Corinthians 12.9). And I can tell you where I saw that power in the life of Kenny Hatch.

He loved you, no matter who you were. He loved without reservation, and would hug you, kiss you, wink at you, or smile at you. And you could not be in his presence without feeling that. Such affectionate love is rare in our world. Many people we know only love you for what they can get in return. Kenny didn't ask for anything. That is the power of God who, himself, is love.

Tonight, Kenny was overcome by complications of pneumonia and died. Kenny, whose faith we all knew, was ready. I have to think that somehow, on some level, he was more connected to God than we understood. And part of me thinks that in heaven Kenny will be free from the syndrome that defined his earthly existence. But there's part of that line of thought that troubles me. Not the part about going to heaven, but the part that somehow he has to be different in the eternal presence of God. We think of God as a healer. But I have to stop and ask if Kenny was really the one who was broken. Maybe, with his child-like view of the world, he was a lot closer to what I am supposed to be. After all, I don't believe in chance. I believe in a God who is always in control. I believe in a God who has a purpose for everyone who is created. I believe that Kenny was created in God's image. So maybe, just maybe, what I thought was a disability was really just God's power being perfected in Kenny's weakness. Does he really have to be "healed" to be in heaven? Paul's thorn in the flesh was about trusting God. And in looking at Kenny, maybe he was perfect for reminding us of the same lesson. God's way of saying, "Even if you don't understand this, I am still God. I've got this."

Perhaps the lesson from Kenny's life is that normal is overrated. Maybe it's that perfect doesn't exist, so I can choose to praise God for the life I have or be miserable over what I don't have. Maybe it was my need to be happy with less, to be content. Or maybe, all of the above.

Whatever the case, I am grateful to God that my life was intersected by Kenny's. I am thankful that he helped me see others with Down's as someone to be celebrated, not pitied. I am thankful that my family treated Kenny like just another one of the cousins.  I am thankful that James and Nell didn't give up. And I am thankful to have been loved by so beautiful a soul.

Rest well, cousin Kenny.

Loose teeth...and repentance?

My son, Samuel, had a loose tooth. It wasn't his first, though I don't remember how many teeth he has lost in eight years of living. But here's the thing: Samuel has never really pulled a tooth. He is one of those kids who will leave that tooth in his mouth until it falls out on its own.

That may not sound like a problem, yet it creates a problem. You see, teeth that are almost out have very sharp edges. They hurt when they poke around on the surrounding gums, thus eating or drinking can become quite a painful experience.

Case in point, our family went out to eat Sunday at Olive Garden (courtesy of some sweet ladies from WP). Sam's tooth was hanging by a thread, but he would not pull it out. Consequence? He did not get to eat. What was frustrating about this was that Dana and I both offered to pull the tooth, and did our best to convince Sam that there would be little or no pain involved. He believed otherwise. So while we enjoyed our endless stream of soup, salad and breadsticks, he sat mopingly (is that even a word?) with a cooling bowl of Zuppa Toscana in front of him. No amount of encouragement or threatening could get that tooth out. He knew that he couldn't eat. He knew that it was hurting. Yet, he insisted on keeping his mouth closed and preserving the position of that lateral incisor.

I will admit to being more than a little frustrated with Sam. Granted, we were using a gift card to pay for dinner, but we paid for him to eat. Because of his refusal to pull the tooth, we just threw that money away. But more than that, it was frustrating to see him hurting himself when there was a simple solution to the problem. He didn't have to hurt, and he knew it, but just wouldn't do what was necessary to stop the pain. I think it was frustrating, too, because it wasn't his first tooth to lose. He has been through this EXACT scenario several times already. He KNOWS it hurts more to leave the tooth in place than to get it out.

Then my frustration turned to embarrassed humility.

It dawned on me that God must get just as frustrated with me when I stubbornly refuse to let him remove things from my life that are hurting me. You could take your pick of damaging habits, attitudes or actions and I have probably struggled with them. All of them are things that God could deal with, things that his power could defeat. But I decide that going through that personal detox will be more painful than the torment caused by my sin, so I hang on to it just a little bit longer. Only with my sin, it is much more dangerous than causing me to miss one of my favorite meals. Unlike a loose tooth, the problem areas in my life will not just fall out on their own. The will linger forever unless they are intentionally removed. Further, they carry a much higher price tag...they are fatal (Romans 6.23). And I KNOW that, yet I let those things hang around, hurting me (and those around me). I think, over time, I get calloused enough that I don't really feel the pain any more. Pretty frightening, huh?

That's what I think David experienced in the Bathsheba incident. No doubt, he knew that sleeping with the wife of one of his soldiers was not good. I am certain that he knew that covering their affair with murder was wrong. In fact, he would go on to write in Psalm 51 that it was eating away at him, destroying him. Only after Nathan's confrontation did David turn in repentance, essentially pulling the loose tooth.  His prayer was for God to tear out his old heart and give him a new one. I think he knew that the spiritual procedure of such an operation would be just as drastic, as life-altering as if it were a physical surgery. And he can do the same for you.

Interestingly enough, Samuel announced from the backseat of the car driving home from Olive Garden that the tooth was out. And as soon as we got home, he fixed himself something to eat. Funny how that relief works. The pain is gone, and joy (that's what I saw in his eyes over that bologna sandwich) takes its place.

Father, thank you for dealing with my sin, for removing things from my life that need to go. Please forgive me for my stubborn refusal to let go of sin. Soften my heart so that it feels the pain again. If necessary, just tear out my old heart and create a new one in me. Help me let go of myself while holding on to you. In Jesus' name, Amen

Unplugged...sort of

The first time it happened, it was because we had moved from one house to another. If you have ever moved, you know that it is not always a well-oiled machine. Things get lost, or misplaced, or forgotten. Besides all the stuff that has to be boxed-up and relocated, there are also lots of necessary chores, like having electrical service turned on and off.

In the midst of the chaos of one of our moves, we (meaning "I") forgot to have the cable service switched. So we were without television programming for a time. The first few days were rough, but we soon discovered just how much time we had been spending parked in front of the box. And as more days went by, we got to the point that we rather enjoyed the quiet time it afforded our family.

Then we moved to California. And like all good movers, we took advantage of the stupendous savings (what a joke!) offered in a cable provider's bundle. Right back into the TV culture we went, and it immediately changed things around our house. We eventually found ourselves planning our schedule around what we wanted to watch. The kids soon believed that they HAD to watch their shows in the morning as we were trying to get ready. And little time was spent in actual conversation.

After a few months, we deliberately made the decision to turn off the cable. No more network news, no more ESPN, no more Disney channel. And a remarkable thing happened. We started playing more games with our kids. We actually learned to have some quiet time in the evenings. And we have not looked back. Now, I need to be clear about something. We do have a subscription to Netflix that allows movies and old tv shows to be streamed through our Wii console. If we want to watch a movie, we can. If we really want to re-watch an episode of favorite shows gone by, we do. But we have complete control over the programming. We only watch (or let our kids watch) those things that we screen first. No commercials compelling our kids to want whatever junk is being advertised. No keeping up with all the Hollywood gossip. No trash that can poison their minds. And we couldn't be happier about that.
I was a little worried when football season rolled around. No games at all? No SEC? Nothing from the NFL? Over the course of this season, however, I realized just how un-important that really was.

Probably the most startling reality for me is the influence that the voices on TV had on my mind. I had the same experience with the radio. On September 12, 2001 I turned on talk radio for the first time. At the time I was just looking for news coverage of the previous day's horrible events. But I liked what I heard. Somewhere around 8 years later, I turned off the talk. I found that things of a political nature had taken an unhlealthy hold on my mind. They consumed me. And, frankly, they fed an arrogance that was horrible. Though God long-ago said that my citizenship is in heaven, I was obsessed with the affairs of my earthly country. Then I turned it off.

I was amazed how all those pressing issues became un-important over the days and weeks that followed. In fact, I was soon disgusted with the whole political mess. Still am today. But I don't get so caught up in it anymore.

As a side note, our family's listening habits changed, too. In the car, country music was the norm. But with this shift in my listening, we decided that a family shift would be good. So we began to listen to nothing but Christian music. Changed the car radio, alarm clocks, etc. Again, it was amazing to watch the transformation that took place. Instead of boozing, cheating, lying songs, I started hearing my kids randomly singing about God, grace, love, Christ and the gospel. Our conversations started to flow from those songs. And the whole tone of our daily life began to change. Now, our kids wake up in the morning to songs about the God who loves them, about the Savior who died for them. That is what we are "feeding" their minds now. And I can't tell you the difference it has made.

My point? That all TV programming is bad? You can only go to heaven if you listen to Christian music? No. But I pray that you, too, will give serious thought to what you are allowing into the eyes, ears and minds of your children. I pray that the things they see and hear, watch and are entertained by are things that honor God and help them learn to glorify him. If you are struggling with that, try unplugging like we did. Try changing the station. Remember Jesus' words in Matthew 6.33: "Seek first God's kingdom and his righteousness." Do that with your entertainment, and you will be amazed at the difference it makes.

facebook Fast

It's been coming for a while. Truth is, I have been thinking about this for more than a year. I just wouldn't do it. Notice I said "wouldn't," not "couldn't." I knew that there were times when I would get so absorbed in reading what everyone had for their afternoon snack, or what they found under their toenail that I would realize I had just traded an hour of my day for the details of someone else's. When they monkeyed around with the news feed this week, it was just the push I needed to step away from facebook for a few days. 40, to be exact.

That's right. I am taking a 40 day break from all things facebook. I already uninstalled the app from my phone, and am trying to figure out how to stop notifications from coming to my email inbox for that time. Now I don't want you to think that I think facebook is evil, or sinful. I have tried, from time to time, to post spiritual things. Many of you do an excellent job of sharing your faith or messages from the Word through your status updates. But for me, facebook has become a distraction that I can (and need to) do without.

I hate beauty pageants, but I LOATHE the ones for babies. The whole point of those baby shows is to say, "My kid is so much prettier than yours." And we love that approval that comes from judges who agree with our assessment. If someone else's child wins over ours, the judges are blind and just don't appreciate true cuteness. Makes me sick at my stomach. Yet (and these words don't taste very good) I have been guilty of the same thing with facebook. It is one thing to praise my kids; another, entirely, to boast about their accomplishments or behavior. My kid plays sports better, my kid is smarter, my kid is _________ (you fill in the blank). I am not suggesting that all people do this, but I have.

I have boasted about my vehicles, campers, time at the gym...so much time spent saying, "Look at me!" I don't know if it is for validation, or if my human mind just likes the attention. But when I read from God's word about modesty, I hear God telling his people to avoid a "look at me" attitude. When I read about humility, I hear my Father telling me to stop finding my identity in my stuff or in the lives of my kids.

This is hard. It is hard to write, but it is even harder to do. No, not just the facebook part. The humility part. Even now, I wonder if writing about this on a public blog is still an attempt to get people to notice me for something I have done.

Aside from the boasting, I am ashamed of the time I have wasted reading page after page after page of "news." I sometimes found it to be the first thing I would do in the morning when I got to the office. It got even worse when I got a smartphone and had instant access in the palm of my hand. I am guilty of ignoring my wife and children (even when talking about them on facebook). I am guilty of using time that would have been much better spent in the Word to look at vacation photos and read about birthday parties. I am guilty of running behind for appointments because I would be commenting on someone's announcement of unimportant information. In other words, facebook became a real time-stealer for me.

As a man recovering from the battle with pornography (five+ years clean), facebook can become a very troubling place, with so many females so freely showing their bodies at every turn. We won't argue about who is at fault in lustful situations, but I just can't keep giving my eyes that kind of temptation to ogle women. It's not healthy for me spiritually, so I will probably begin (after the fast) to thin my friends list to remove that aspect of fleshly warfare from my view. I don't need to see you in your bikini, or with your cleavage hanging out. It doesn't really matter how good you look (or how good you THINK you look), no one who is not married to you needs to see your exposed or accented body. Period. I know some fathers and husbands who need to step up and do something about what their daughters and wives are letting the world see, and who need to be leading their sons away from the slaughter that always follows lust (think Samson here). Wake up, people!!!

Now, from the soapbox back to the blog. I don't know if I will go back to facebook after this 40 days, but I suspect I will. I like keeping up with those I love. I like sharing photos and videos with the grandparents. I may even continue to use the little button on here that lets me share my blog posts with my facebook friends. (Is that cheating?) But my aim is to retrain myself in time management. I want to disconnect from the computer a little more so that I can reconnect with real people. I want to be less distracted from what is really important. That's what fasting was about in the Bible; drawing nearer to God, spending time in prayer, preparing hearts for God's service. So it is with this fast.

Giving...and Receiving

He looked like Jesus. Except for the fact that he wasn't Middle-Eastern. And he was wearing jeans and a t-shirt while carrying a backpack. And he was in Fresno. But if you take one of those European paintings of Jesus where he is white and thin, not so much effeminate but not Grizzly Adams, either. He had a beard and longer hair, and my first thought when I met him was that he looked like Jesus. Especially his eyes. Piercing blue eyes that seemed to look within me. The kind of eyes that almost make you uncomfortable when you look into them.

But, let's be honest. I did not expect him to speak or act like Jesus. After all, he was a homeless man from Fresno's Tent City. He resides in squalid conditions that most of us would not consider humane for our dogs. I assume addiction or something similar has led him to the streets, but I was apprehensive about asking. Truthfully, I expected him to smell - a weird mixture of beer, cigarettes and body odor so common down there - but he didn't. Still, I did not expect much from him, especially in the spiritual realm.

His name was John. I was intrigued by his name, especially since I thought he looked like Jesus. I remembered reading a short book by a Christian author a couple years back that hinted at meeting John, as in the apostle. Recalling that book I laughed to myself, or maybe at myself for thinking this tent-dweller could be remotely like an apostle or the Rabbi.

I found out that he had visited the church where I preach, but not since I have been there. His impressions were positive. But Sundays were hard for him. He did not want to come to worship without a shower, but the showers were overcrowded on Sunday mornings. Maybe there was more, but I had heard this from another homeless man who attends our services so I knew this to be a real issue. The man with me offered to pick him up early enough to get use the showers at our building, but he balked at this suggestion. In my mind, I couldn't help but think that maybe he just wasn't interested in church, or Jesus for that matter. The resemblance was just a coincidence.

What happened next moved me so deeply that I found myself fighting back tears. In fact, it was several hours before I could even talk about it.

My friend told John that we would be in prayer for him. John responded by asking, "What do YOU want ME to pray for, for you?" When neither of us gave much of a response, he got more specific. "In the next few minutes and hours of this day, what can I pray about for you?" The next thing I knew (it was as if this was happening in slow motion) I was standing in the street holding hands with my friend...and with John. And instead of my voice praying over this poor homeless man, I heard John's voice. His prayer was long. Not wordy, really. But he had a lengthy conversation with God, and his words told me that he was well acquainted with the One to whom he was speaking. But even more moving than the fact that he was praying was the content of his prayer. He did not ask for one thing for himself. His whole prayer was focused on my friend and me, sprinkled with praises to God for His greatness and provision, for His mercy and grace. In that moment I was taken aback to realize that I had showed up downtown to minister to the homeless, yet here I was being ministered to by John.

In Matthew's account of  Jesus' life, he recorded this quote (Jesus speaking in the second person about Himself): "That is what the Son of Man has done: He came to serve, not be served—and then to give away his life in exchange for the many who are held hostage" (20.28). Though John was homeless, and by all indications destitute, he was not there to be served but to serve. It was humbling, to say the least. It forced me to come face-to-face with my own sinfulness. I was brought low, and at the same time lifted up.  So come to think of it, he really did look like Jesus.

Thank you, Father, for reminding me of my constant need for your mercy. Thank you for showing me that being a minister does not exempt me from the need for ministry in my own life. And thank you for using John to change me. Through Jesus, Amen

Nigel's Big Plans

He said his name was Nigel. He was sitting at a table outside the Poverello House waiting for the doors to open for lunch. I don't know why Nigel is homeless, if he is an addict or if he is mentally ill. I don't understand how he got from Virginia to Fresno, or even if he really did. But very quickly, this outgoing black man had my attention. He was wearing shorts and a t-shirt, nothing memorable. He appeared to have more teeth than his mouth was made to hold, and big smile that showed itself often. He was quick to introduce himself and was immediately curious why I was there. When he found out I was a preacher, he seemed to get a little excited, and we began a conversation about biblical matters.

I will confess that I did not expect much theological depth from a man living on the street. I figured he might have heard some preachers, or maybe picked up some religious statements from recovery meetings. But what followed blew me away. Not only was Nigel familiar with basic Bible facts, it was soon obvious that he possessed a deep understanding of the Word, and how it fit together. I listened as he walked through not only several characters, but how their lives and stories were interrelated. I listened as he talked about Biblical structure, wondered about God's reasoning behind the story of Job, and quoted verse after verse from the KJV in a rich, bass voice. Almost James-Earl-Jones-ish. He then told me that he loved reading his Bible. I commented that it was obvious he had read more than a lot of people in churches I knew. He said, "Well, I have a lot of time and not many distractions, so I just sit and read for hours."

He then changed gears, though, and shared his big plans. He had once seen a news story about a young girl who had a seizure-detecting dog. It was able to smell or sense the changes in her body chemistry before the onset of the seziure and would alert her so she could get help. Nigel was moved by that story. Enter Nigel the inventor. He wants to invent a device that could be worn like a bracelet that would perform the same function as the dog...and then some. He said his device would provide a two-hour advance warning before a major medical event, including heart attack, stroke, blood clots, etc. With his proceeds, Nigel wants to purchase a company, perhaps McDonalds, that he would then give to the government to fund Medicaid and other such programs for the needy. With his leftover money, he would build a community of houses for the homeless. Upon approval, homeless people would be allowed to move into the house and given $100,000. They would have one year to get back on their feet and manage the money. If, after that year, they had not done well or wasted the money he would evict them and move the next person on the list in for their trial year. When I commented that I might see his name on the news one day, he said, "Give me two years and I WILL do it." Gotta commend his positive attitude and his goal-setting.

And then he started telling jokes. They were not inappropriate or off-color. Some were - frankly - not very funny. But Nigel did have a good time telling them, complete with big belly-laughs after delivering the punch line.

Now, follow me back to something Nigel said, in the part about his Bible study. He said that he was able to build his Bible knowledge because he read often and long. But he said the biggest thing that helped this was that he had no distractions. Perhaps for many Christians today, that is the single greatest barrier in our own knowledge of the Word of God. We love the Lord and his people. We live lives based on the moral code contained in the Bible. We attend worship and give generously. But our lives have become so full and busy that even some good things become distractions (our interests, the activities of our kids, the stress of work, on and on). And those things that ultimately receive our time and attention become our top priorities. I talked with someone this week who is a couple days ahead of schedule on the 90-day Bible reading plan. I asked him about his impressions of the plan and the first thing he said was, "I have to MAKE time to do it." He is a busy man, running a large business, being a husband, father and grandfather, watching out for his aging parents. But this thing of reading a large portion of the Bible daily has become a part of his routine. He has found ways to lessen the distractions of life in order to make time with God a priority.

I am not ready to put my family in a tent and stake my claim on G Street. But I hope we can all take a lesson from Nigel and lessen the distractions clamoring for our attention and make time with the Word a big part of our daily lives.

And who knows...maybe Nigel's invention will one day save your life. Or at least his jokes might make you laugh, which the Bible says is good medicine!

What else would you do with it?

Really??? I was eating lunch with some members of my ministry team last week at a local "Deli Delicious" when I saw this dispenser. I read the words on the front three or four times before I believed they were really there. I will admit that, though I was already finished with my meal, I got one of these. I could hardly wait to see what improvements had been made to the plain old plastic spoon that would render it multi-purpose. When it came out, what I saw in my hand was a...(dramatic pause) ...plain old plastic spoon! It was pretty much the same as any plastic spoon I had ever seen. Made out of the same kind of plastic, shaped the same way, and - sadly - it appeared to have the exact same purpose as every other spoon.  (Never mind the totally unrelated fact that I did not see anything there for which you could need a spoon of any kind!)

But come to think about it, I have seen some spoons that had different purposes. Slotted spoons, for instance, are quite useful for dipping beans from a pot. But if you want the bean "soup" over your cornbread, a slotted spoon will only prove a frustration. A ladle would be a great tool for spooning chocolate gravy over hot biscuits with butter; but to get freshly-made apple butter out of a pint mason jar, a jelly spoon would be a better choice. Who knew there really were so many spoons with so many different purposes? A Wikipedia article I just pulled up suggests over 50 different types of spoons, from an ear wax spoon to a marrow spoon for removing...well, bone marrow. Each one of these unique items is a spoon, but each has a different use, a different purpose. I suppose that you might argue that the above-pictured spoons are (technically) multi-purpose. After all, you could dip a variety of things using this spoon. And while it might not be as useful as an old-fashioned wood spoon for disciplinary purposes, you can still use it as a miniature catapult.

It seems to me that those of us in the body of Christ are a lot like spoons. You see, all of us who belong to Christ are Christians. We are all redeemed. We are all saved and set apart. But, boy, are we different in form and function! The beauty of this is that God designed us and his church this way...intentionally.  Paul describes this divine arrangement to the Corinthians with these words (1 Corinthians 12)

The human body has many parts, but the many parts make up one whole body. So it is with the body of Christ. Some of us are Jews, some are Gentiles, some are slaves, and some are free. But we have all been baptized into one body by one Spirit, and we all share the same Spirit.

                

Yes, the body has many different parts, not just one part. If the foot says, I am not a part of the body because I am not a hand,” that does not make it any less a part of the body. And if the ear says, “I am not part of the body because I am not an eye,” would that make it any less a part of the body? If the whole body were an eye, how would you hear? Or if your whole body were an ear, how would you smell anything?

              

But our bodies have many parts, and God has put each part just where he wants it. How strange a body would be if it had only one part! Yes, there are many parts, but only one body. The eye can never say to the hand, “I don’t need you.” The head can’t say to the feet, “I don’t need you.”

He further tells the Romans that God's purposeful placement of the pieces and parts of his body came with the spiritual gifts to fulfill our respective roles (see Romans 12.4-8). Isn't that good to know? In the church of our Lord, you don't have to be like me and I don't have to be like you. We aren't supposed to have the same gifs, talents, abilities, etc. How dull and boring that would be! Not to mention, we would not accomplish much for God. What makes us all the same is the mind that controls all the body's functions and actions.  We read in Ephesians 5 that Christ is the head of the body. We are encouraged to think like He thinks (Philippians 2.5), which would surely cause us to want to act under his direction as members of his body.

You may have one specific talent. Just one thing at which you are really good.  Or you may truly be multi-purpose, able to fill many roles and places.  Either way, you need to remember that God designed you that way! And you are no more or less important than any other spoon in the drawer....I mean, any other member of Christ's body.
Whether you are a mother-of-pearl caviar spoon or a plain old plastic spoon, use who you are and what he has given you by living out your place in the body of Christ!