Few stories have touched my heart like Lee Hart’s.  I don’t know many specifics about her life.  I don’t know her birth date, height, favorite food or any of the normal things you may know about a person who has an impact on your life.

I never met Lee Hart.

But I know the most important things about her—that though she had limitations in this life here on earth, she affected many, many lives.

According to the story our pastor told us one hot summer Sunday morning, Lee Hart had some mental impairment, a speech impediment due to a hearing problem, and some other physical challenges.  Her appearance was pretty normal–not very tall, fair complected with light reddish hair.  As Pastor Bud unfolded the miracle of her life, her picture seemed to float above us on the screens suspended from the ceiling.

Lee had a talent for ministering to the congregation with greeting cards.  Pastor said when it was your birthday, anniversary, new baby, or sympathy for the loss of a loved one, Lee was right on top of it with a card.  He said if you so much as sneezed during a church service, you’d receive a get-well card from Lee.  No one was better at consistent, reliable thoughtfulness at making everyone feel wanted and important through the ministry of greeting cards.

Lee wanted pretty much to serve the Lord, period.  And she wanted to do it in any way she could, even if others thought she couldn’t.

Her singing voice had character, but not much melody.  The most you could say was that she was faithful—faithful to one note.  She found it and stuck with it.  So when she told Pastor Bud she wanted to sing in the spring concert, he had a moment’s hesitation.  But it was a fleeting moment.  Who was he to say she couldn’t do it for fear of something less than perfection for the overall concert?  One of his biggest concerns was she wouldn’t be able to memorize the songs.  And in order to get the best performance, everyone needed to memorize.

Obviously Lee was extremely challenged.  Did she run away, or try to make excuses?  Neither.  Instead, she practiced two hours, three times a day, or six hours every single day according to her mother. 

She memorized the words.

The next challenge for everyone was to invite people to the performance.  Lee took the largest stack of tickets from the podium with nothing less than complete confidence that each and every person she invited would be there to hear about her Lord and Christ.  She surpassed the challenge by inviting many, many friends and family.

The night of the performance, Pastor Bud said he’ll never forget how Lee stood at the door and happily waited for her guests to arrive.  People poured in, but as Lee strained her neck to recognize any of her guests, she was sadly becoming more and more disappointed as she came to the realization that none of her invitations had been accepted.  She cried to Pastor Bud.  She said she was a failure.  Torn by her disappointment, Pastor reassured her that nothing about her was a failure.

Did she turn away, and decide not to be in the concert?  Nope, she dug down deep and went up with the others to perform the concert she worked so hard for.

Pastor said there was something different in that auditorium that night.  Lee was belting out her songs with a kind of glow around her.  She was pouring her heart out singing “Cwist is my Lord” when she dropped to the floor, never to breathe again.  An aneurism had put her straight from the stage into the arms of her Lord.  All efforts to revive her failed.

The performance was cancelled that night with the promise that a new date would be announced.

At the rescheduled concert, once again Lee’s voice was heard.  But it wasn’t an audible musical voice.  Many of her invited guests to the first concert answered Lee’s invitation that night.  And what’s more, many answered God’s invitation to ask Christ into their hearts.

Is perfection necessary to make a difference?  Or does it more often get in the way?

The only thing about Lee was her perfect love and surrender.  Enough said.