When was the last time you struggled with something? For some, they may struggle with a test in their economics class, and for others, they may be struggling to pay bills or put a meal on the table. Completely different struggles right? Or are they?

When I was a junior in high school I went on a mission trip to Sugar Hill, Georgia. While in Georgia I helped to restore an elderly man's house. Little did he know, the goal of this mission trip was to not only restore his home but restore his heart in the process.

Imagine this: Me, a 16-year-old girl, walking up to the house of a 54-year-old elderly man whose home is falling to pieces. "Falling to pieces" is not an exaggeration at all. On this mission trip, it was a basic routine to go the work site (the elderly man's home) on the first day and say a prayer with him. Per the routine, that's exactly what we did. Although for the first time since I had been doing this kind of mission trip, he wouldn't come outside, he just cracked the door and spoke through it. Thinking nothing of this situation, my crew and I prayed through the cracked door and let him be the rest of the week. We worked Monday through Thursday, 7 hours a day without speaking to this man.

Like most people would do, my crew and I just assumed he was a typical older man who just didn't want to come outside and speak to us "silly kids." It wasn't until Thursday when I got curious as to why he wouldn't even speak to us. I mean, we were redoing his house, couldn't he at least say thank you? The curiosity built inside me until I finally had to knock on his door and, hopefully, be invited inside.

I expected to just make small talk about his home, but something bigger than anything I could have ever imagined happened.

I knocked, and he came to the door. The door opened and I heard him say I could come in, so I did. When I got inside I saw something I didn't expect, an oxygen tank. I'm not talking about a small oxygen tank that could be rolled around as needed, this one was huge and mounted to the wall of the bedroom.

This man, that my whole crew had been judging and scrutinizing, was not even capable of walking to the door to speak to us. It wasn't that he did not want to, he was physically unable. I took a seat on the couch with him and began to talk. While sitting there I noticed a few things: his feet were purple and swollen making it painful for him to walk, he could only say a few words at once and then had to pause to catch his breath, and he loved to talk. This man, who could only say a few words at a time, was dying for someone to talk to him, and because of our outside judgment of him, he had never got the opportunity.

As we began to talk I learned his background, about his children, his health condition, and his faith. I asked if he went to church and his response was "I used to." When I questioned why he "used to" he responded with "I am mad at God, I have been for a while now," and he seemed to have all the intentions to continue to be.

When I asked why he was mad at God, he replied with "Why would someone who is supposed to love me, put me in this situation for so long."

By "this situation" he was referring to not only his housing situation but also to the terminally ill disease that has consumed eight years of his life. After I heard this I began to tell him about my grandfather who found out he had cancer and passed two weeks after finding out. I explained how not only did God give him 54 years of life that he already did not deserve, but God gave him a so-called "terminally ill disease" that he has had for eight years. Eight more years that he has lived with a terminally ill disease. As he began to cry, he informed me he was unsure of where his eternity would be spent.

After our long talk, I asked if he would like to pray, and he asked if I would for him. In turn, I asked him to pray with me, and we did it together.

We finished praying and through heavy tears, he looked up at me and said, "Haleigh, I'm going to heaven."

I replied with, "Yes sir, you are." The next day he had found a portable oxygen tank and not only came outside all day, but he cooked our whole, 10-person crew lunch. He asked me to pick him up and bring him to our mission trip worship service the following afternoon, which of course I did. A man who could not walk, could barely speak, hated his life, and did not know where he was spending eternity, was changed all because of a simple knock on his door.

I say all of this to show that we all have struggles, some may seem small and some may seem large, but that does not alter who a person is. Take a second out of your day to understand that maybe the kid you always make fun of for being late to class may be working morning shifts to help provide for their family. Or the other kid who wears the same shirt every day may only own one shirt. Be the light that recognizes someone's struggles and makes that knock on the door, instead of sitting back and watching. Everyone struggles, no one is perfect, you are not alone.