What If You Don’t Want to burden Anyone with Your needs?

You know, too often, our needs are perceived (by ourselves or others) either as burdens  to shamefully hide, or as idols before which everything else must bow. But what if our needs could actually be tools to care for others? In their new book, The Hospitality of  Need, Kevan Chandler and Tommy Shelton provide a biblical framework to see our needs as opportunities for deeper, truer community. Kevan shares with us here a  glimpse at his life with a disability and what his relationships look like with God and friends like Tommy. It’s a deep joy to welcome Kevan and Tommy to the farm’s table today…

Guest Post by Kevan Chandler and Tommy Shelton

There was once a man who was lowered through a roof.

He was disabled.

We don’t  know the specifics, what disease he had, or the accident that crippled him. We do know he couldn’t walk; his body didn’t work right.

“My friends cut holes in roofs every day—in word, deed, laughter, and song—and  together, we get to experience Jesus.“

I relate a lot to this guy, whom the gospel  writers simply call “the paralytic.”

Because I can’t walk; my body doesn’t work right. If I had been around in his time, I would have lived out my life lying on a mat like he did.  

But that’s not the only way I relate to him.

He also had friends, like I have.

It was his friends who carried him on his mat across town to meet Jesus. And when they got to the packed-out house, they pulled him up onto the roof. They tore open a hole and lowered  him into the middle of the room, plopped him right down in front of Jesus.

I have friends like this. Good friends who bring me to the feet of Jesus time and time again with every action they take to care for me and to make my life not just possible but abundant. My friends cut holes in roofs every day—in word, deed, laughter, and song—and  together, we get to experience Jesus. 

Tommy is one such friend. We grew up together in the foothills of North Carolina,  although our deeper friendship began some years later. He cares for the vulnerable,  celebrates the unseen, and listens to the forgotten. He delights in his wife, cherishes his  kids, and honors his parents. And when I come around, he cuts holes in roofs for me.

“God has called us to live in; friendship that goes deep and flourishes, not in spite of our needs but actually through them.“

Tommy gladly helps me with the restroom when it’s really most inconvenient for him,  jumps in to give me a shower without any heads-up, and has welcomed me into his home amid busy family schedules more often than I can say.  

Like the man lowered from the roof, God has called us to live in; friendship that goes deep and flourishes, not in spite of our needs but actually through them. Needs– (mine and those of others) has ushered my friends and me into deeper fellowship with God and one another.

We have stepped into each other’s needs together, with all its  countercultural pace and mess. Cutting holes in roofs ain’t pretty! And I struggle with  whether that makes me a burden. I’m sure it crossed the paralytic’s mind, too, as his friends grunted with every heave-ho up and down. But these friends lower me down as they did him, and I hope that in some way through the process, I’m lowering them down  too. As they carry me, help me, and meet my needs, their needs are also met. As they bring me to Jesus, they get closer to Him as well.

We have found that while doing things  this way may have challenges the world would prefer to avoid, it’s a doorway that can  lead to healing, growth, and restoration. It leads us together to the feet of Jesus.  

There’s one more way I relate to the man lowered through the roof. Jesus told him his  sins were forgiven, and He’s told me the same. But here is where we are different. After forgiving him of his sins, Jesus turned away from the paralytic to address the Pharisees who were there. They were murmuring about Him thinking He could forgive sins, so  Jesus called them on it. He asked them which of the two options was easier to say:  

1. Your sins are forgiven, or . . .  

2. Take up your mat and walk.  

“But that you may know that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins,” and with that, Jesus turned back to the man and told him to get up. And he did!

He hopped up, grabbed his mat, and probably danced his way through the crowd to meet his friends outside. Or did he climb back up the ropes to join them on the roof? I don’t know,  but I am guessing it was quite a sight to see for everyone in the room.  

I am a paralytic.

I have been lowered through roofs to the feet of Jesus. I am lowered every day. And when I was six years old, the King of Kings knelt by my mat, looked me  in the eye, and forgave me of my sins.

I am forgiven.  

But I’m still lying on the mat.

“He forgives my sins and their sins, too, and  they wait with me—I wait with them—for Jesus to faithfully complete the good work He  has started in us.”

What was for the man perhaps thirty seconds—lying there,  waiting, between forgiveness and physical healing—has been for me more than thirty  years, and it will likely be longer. Maybe a lifetime. Jesus is currently addressing the Pharisees in the room, and I’m waiting—mostly patiently.  

I wonder if the man looked up through the hole to his friends in that moment of waiting. I  wonder if he winked at them or if they gave him an encouraging thumbs-up. Maybe he  kept his eyes on Jesus the whole time, and maybe they did too. That’s probably more  like it.

Whatever the case, he wasn’t alone in the waiting, even thirty seconds of it.

And I’m not alone either. I guess that’s another way I can relate to him. My friends lower me through the roof to the feet of Jesus.

He forgives my sins and their sins, too, and  they wait with me—I wait with them—for Jesus to faithfully complete the good work He  has started in us. 

I’ve been keenly awaiting this book!

Kevan Chandler is the founder of the nonprofit organization We Carry  Kevan and speaks worldwide about friendship and disability. Tommy Shelton is the  pastor of Live Oaks Bible Church in Palm Harbor, Florida.

Through engaging real-life  stories, their new book, The Hospitality of Need, shares what can happen at the crossroads of selflessness and vulnerability.

Ultimately, it’s a book about friendship, the kind that God has called us to live in… friendship that flourishes, not in spite of our needs but actually through them.

{ Our humble thanks to Moody Publishers for their partnership in today’s devotional.}