By Josh Liljenquist
For a long time, I thought service was fairly simple. One person had something another person needed. You noticed the need, stepped in, helped however you could, and hopefully left the situation a little better than you found it.
I still believe helping someone in need matters. But someone named James taught me that service can become much more meaningful when we stop thinking of people as permanently divided into those who help and those who need help.
How I Met James
When I first met James, he was rebuilding his life. He had lived through addiction, financial instability, and other difficult circumstances. He and his wife were also facing uncertainty around housing.
Those circumstances explained the immediate problem in front of us, but they did not explain who James was. That distinction became more important to me the longer I knew him.
Through my work creating community-support stories, I have met many people during some of the hardest chapters of their lives. One danger in this kind of work is accidentally allowing the problem to become the person’s identity.
The person struggling with housing becomes “the housing story.” The person rebuilding after addiction becomes “the addiction story.” The person needing financial support becomes “the financial hardship story.”
James reminded me how incomplete those descriptions are.
When the Story Kept Going
Our community rallied around James and his wife. What began as an effort to help with an immediate need grew into substantial support, and eventually James and his wife were able to become homeowners.
It would have been easy to think that was the end of their story. It wasn’t.
James and I continued talking and spending time together. I learned more about his personality, his perspective, the experiences that shaped him, and the way he related to other people who were struggling.
Only months after we first met, James joined my team. Today, part of his work involves reviewing community nominations and helping us understand the people behind the stories.
The person who once needed someone to listen to him became one of the people doing the listening. That changed the way I understood service.
Service is Not a Permanent Role
When we help someone, it can be tempting to unconsciously assign ourselves the role of helper and the other person the role of recipient. But those roles describe a moment. They do not describe a person’s value.
James brings something to our work that I cannot manufacture. He understands what it feels like to have a complicated history. He understands what it feels like to wonder whether people will only see the worst parts of your past. He understands how much it can matter when someone listens without immediately deciding who you are.
Those experiences now help him connect with other people. Something that could have been used to dismiss him became part of what makes him so valuable to our team.
Three Things Service Has Taught Me
First, help with the problem without reducing the person to the problem.
Immediate needs matter. If someone needs food, housing, transportation, or financial support, those problems deserve attention. But ask questions beyond the emergency.
Who is this person? What matters to them? What do they hope happens next? What strengths are difficult to see because their current problem is taking up all the oxygen in the room?
Second, leave room for the relationship to change.
Sometimes helping someone is a brief interaction, and that is completely appropriate. But sometimes the person you meet through an act of service becomes a friend, a teacher, a colleague, or someone who changes your own perspective.
You can miss that possibility if you permanently think of them as “the person I helped.”
Third, remember how often you have been on the receiving end too.
Every one of us has needed somebody. Someone believed in us. Someone taught us something. Someone gave us an opportunity. Someone listened when we needed to talk. Someone opened a door we could not open ourselves.
Service becomes more meaningful when we remember that none of us permanently occupies only one side of that exchange.
What James Taught Me
James is not simply someone our community once helped. He is my friend. He is part of my team. And today he helps us look for other people whose lives might change if somebody takes the time to see more than their circumstances.
That is what I now love most about service.
A person who receives kindness does not become indebted to the giver. They remain a whole human being with their own gifts, experiences, and ability to contribute.
Sometimes service solves an immediate problem. Sometimes it creates stability. And sometimes, only months later, the person you once hoped to help is sitting beside you helping someone else.
That is when service stops feeling like something one person does for another. It becomes something that moves through people.
About the Author
Josh Liljenquist, known online as Joshlilj, is a Minnesota-based digital creator and founder of Joshlilj LLC. His work centers on kindness, community support, and human-centered storytelling. He shares stories about what can happen when people choose to see the person beyond the circumstances. Visit his website at JoshLiljenquist.com.
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