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I dropped the heavy concrete block and brushed the sweat from my forehead. I glanced around the corner of the house and saw my youth group friends, Erin* and Sarah, talking to the house's owner. I could tell they were talking about something important.

I was on my youth group's service trip to help build and repair houses. I was looking for an opportunity to share my faith and impact someone's life. But so far, all I'd done was move a bunch of junk from a rundown house.

At the end of the day, I listened as Erin and Sarah talked about John, the homeowner. He'd told them he was a Christian, but his wife, Susan, hadn't been to church

in a long time. We prayed together that night for God to give us a chance to share our faith with Susan.

I hoped I'd get the perfect opportunity to talk with her.

But it never happened.

Every time she came out to talk, I was off doing something else, like getting supplies or water.

It seemed like everyone else got to talk to her. Some of my friends even got to share their faith. One night, John stopped by the church where we were staying to thank us for all the work we'd done.

"My wife said she's never felt so loved by Christians," I heard him say to Sarah. "I'm praying she'll go back to church."

I watched as my friends prayed with him. Even though I thought it was really cool that my friends had impacted his family so much, I couldn't help but feel a bit left out. I wanted God to use me, to show people his love through me.

As the week went on, things went from bad to worse.

One night, Jim, my youth group leader, gathered us all together to pray. I was exhausted and I couldn't concentrate. So while everyone was silently praying, I looked around the room. I noticed that a bunch of people had tears streaming down their faces. When we were done praying, my friend Kelly said she'd never felt closer to God.

I swallowed hard. I was jealous—I wanted to feel close to God, too.

Toward the end of the week, I was still feeling really down.

"What's going on?" Jim asked, pulling me aside. "You haven't been yourself."

I took a deep breath. "I expected to have a big 'wow' moment this week," I admitted. "You know, when you can totally see and feel God working through you.

I just feel like he's not really using me."

 "I've felt the same way before," he said.

"Really?" I said softly, brushing away my tears.

"But I've realized that just because you don't see God using you doesn't mean he's not," he explained. "You can show Christ's love through your actions, too. Look at all the great work you've done."

I knew in my heart he was right. I had been working hard. I had the blisters to show for it, too.

I knew my attitude had to change. So the next day, as I worked on the roof of a house, I prayed for the people who lived inside. I wasn't sure if I'd get to talk with them, but I knew I could still pray that they would feel God working in their lives. The more I prayed, the closer I felt to God.

As the week wound down, I became more aware of my actions. I knew wherever I went, people were watching me. They wanted to see how a Christian acted. I prayed that people would see Christ's love through my work.

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