*If religious posts are not your jam, skip this one. It isn’t meant to be a commentary on anyone’s beliefs, stir up controversy, or put anyone down. These are my thoughts, my experiences, my rambling.

Lately, I keep having this thought echo in my mind: “See the one, be the one.” It might sound strange, maybe even a little contradictory, but it’s been teaching me something profound about service and discipleship.

During His mortal ministry, Jesus taught His followers to minister to the One, to go after the One, and to serve the One. The parables of the lost coin and lost sheep in the Gospels show just how important the One is to Jesus. He leads by example, and when He visits the Nephites in the Book of Mormon, He invites them to come to Him “one by one” (3 Nephi 11:15). Alma, Mosiah, and others echo that call, reminding us that each soul matters. Doctrine and Covenants 18:10 affirms it: “Remember the worth of souls is great in the sight of God.”

We hear these messages often: See the One. Go after the One. Love the One. But there’s a part of the equation we don’t always talk about.

In order to minister to the One, someone has to be the One.

I know, it sounds a little like something my teenage son would say to distract me during a serious conversation. But go with me for a minute.

Very few of us want to be the One who needs help. I certainly don’t. I don’t want to be the one who can’t juggle it all, who isn’t strong enough, or who needs someone to step in. Vulnerability? No thank you. While I’m happy to serve someone else, letting someone serve me makes me feel itchy and exposed.

But here’s the kicker: We can’t always be the one offering service. Sometimes, life requires us to accept it.

There will be days when, no matter how much you prepare, pray, or plan, it won’t be enough. And in those moments, you need someone to lift you. To sit beside you. To minister to you.

The vulnerability required to ask for or accept help is breathtaking in its simplicity, and almost impossible in practice. Letting people see the cracks in our well-curated exteriors is just hard. It takes humility, trust, and the willingness to be rejected. That fear alone often keeps us from reaching out.

But what if, when you do reach out, someone is ready to catch you? Or better yet, what if they can’t catch you, but they’re willing to fall with you?

What if helping you is exactly what someone else has been praying for? What if you are the answer to their desire to serve?

If we never let people in, we miss out on the connections, growth, and love that true service brings.

A few years ago, a sister in our ward stood up in Fast and Testimony meeting and said something like, “I have no close friends. I wish I did. It’s lonely and isolating.”

Jaw. On. The. Floor.

This was a bubbly, active sister who seemed to be everywhere and involved in everything. I was shocked. But as I sat there, wrangling my feral children into some semblance of reverence, I felt the Spirit nudge me: This is something you can do.

So I forced my friendship on her.

We had been casual friends before, but her vulnerable moment opened a door for a deeper connection. I remember standing in my kitchen, debating whether to send her a message. I nearly talked myself out of it, convinced she wouldn’t want to hear from me. But a small voice kept chanting, “Do it, do it.”

So I sent the message. Something ridiculous like, “FYI, we’re going to be friends, so let’s just accept that now.”

And you know what? She responded. That moment—one she may not even remember—has been a huge blessing in my life. Her willingness to be seen allowed me to serve and, in turn, to grow.

We say it often, but it’s true: Serving others changes us. It helps the giver as much as, if not more than, the receiver.

Ministering doesn’t have to be big. One small act of kindness can ripple through someone’s life. Even if no one else sees the ripples, the Savior does. He sees that we saw the One and stepped in.

Letting others serve us is uncomfortable. But sometimes, that discomfort leads to growth.

Now, just to be clear: I’m not talking about making up busywork so people feel needed. That’s not service—that’s task delegation. Real service is sharing the Savior’s love. It says, “I see you. I know you. You matter.”

The kind of ministering that meets people where they are, whether assigned or spontaneous, is rare, but when it happens, it’s beautiful.

When we first moved to Georgia, we knew no one. My kids were homesick for Texas. Everything felt off. Then one day, someone dropped off cookies. Not just any cookies—a very specific kind that you never forget. My kids were ecstatic. That small act made them feel like we had real Georgia friends.

I don’t even remember if we saw the family that delivered them. I just remember the box on the kitchen counter.

To this day, whenever my kids see those cookies, they talk about that family. It’s been six years. But that moment was the first time we felt truly seen in our new home.

It was hard to accept that service. I didn’t want to need the friendship wrapped up in that box. But I did. We all did. And Heavenly Father used that small act to remind us He saw us, too.

So if you’ve made it this far, thank you.

Here’s what I hope you remember:

Seeing the One matters. Serving the One matters. But so does being the One.

Let the walls down just a little. Let others serve you. Let connection happen.

And in that moment, you might just find that your burdens are lighter, your faith is deeper, and your heart is more open to the Savior.

See the One. Be the One. Let yourself be seen.