One of the greatest lessons I've learned as a caregiver is to know my strengths and to be honest about my weaknesses. I think we sometimes believe we have to be good at everything in order to care well for others, but I've found just the opposite to be true. The more honest we are about our gifts and our limitations, the more authentic our care becomes.
When I worked as the Activity and Volunteer Coordinator for a large retirement community in Pennsylvania, every Thursday was craft day. I was blessed to have three incredible volunteers who faithfully came each week to lead the craft projects. They were creative, patient, and talented, and the residents absolutely loved them. I relied on those volunteers because I knew crafting wasn't one of my strengths. Whenever I interviewed for Activity Director positions, I was always honest about that. I could certainly lead a simple craft, but creating elaborate, artistic projects just wasn't my gift.
Then one Thursday morning, everything changed. One by one, I received phone calls from all three volunteers. None of them were going to be able to come that day. My heart sank. I immediately started thinking, "What am I going to do?" I knew the residents would be expecting another wonderful craft project, and I also knew I wasn't going to be able to replace the creativity those volunteers brought each week.
After a few moments of feeling stressed, I decided to keep things simple. Since Halloween was just around the corner, I gathered some construction paper, markers, glue, and a little glitter. Together, we made simple paper ghosts to hang on the residents' apartment doors. They certainly weren't the beautiful craft projects everyone had become accustomed to. I could tell there was a little disappointment because the expectations had been set so high by our talented volunteers.
So I decided to be honest. I smiled and told everyone, "You all know crafts really aren't my strength." The residents laughed. There was no judgment. There was no complaining. They accepted me for who I was, and together we finished making our ghosts.
Then something unexpected happened. After the craft was finished, we simply sat together and started talking about Halloween. One resident shared stories about making homemade costumes as a child. Another talked about taking children trick or treating through their neighborhood. Before long, the room was filled with laughter as everyone reminisced about favorite Halloween memories, costumes, candy, and family traditions. The simple craft became the beginning of something much more meaningful.
That afternoon reminded me that while crafting wasn't my greatest strength, connecting with people certainly was. As a natural extrovert, I've always loved listening to people's stories, asking questions, and helping conversations come alive. The residents recognized that gift, and instead of focusing on what I couldn't do, they embraced what I could do. Looking back, I don't think they remembered the paper ghosts nearly as much as they remembered the joy we shared together.
That experience has stayed with me throughout my career. As caregivers, we all have different gifts. Some people are creative. Some are incredible organizers. Some have a gift for music, cooking, or problem solving. Others are wonderful listeners who help people feel seen and heard. None of those gifts are more important than the others. Every gift matters because every person we care for has different needs.
Today, I encourage you to think about your own strengths. What comes naturally to you? What do people thank you for? Then think about your weaknesses without feeling guilty about them. Those weaknesses aren't failures. They may simply be invitations for someone else to use the gifts God has given them. When we stop trying to be everything for everyone, we become free to be exactly who God created us to be. Often, that's when the greatest care happens.