Useful Goodness

 KINDNESS = USEFUL GOODNESS

This morning, I visited a church I hadn’t attended in more than 12 years—The pastor preached from Ephesians 4:31–32:

“Get rid of all bitterness, rage, anger, harsh words, and slander, as well as all types of evil behavior. Instead, be kind to each other, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, just as God through Christ has forgiven you.”

But what is kindness, really?

Is it simply the absence of meanness?

Do we confuse kindness with politeness?

He described kindness as “USEFUL GOODness”—choosing to do what is GOOD and HELPFUL for others, whether we like them or not.

That definition is not one I have ever heard before.  

Are we actually living out useful goodness? Are we truly being kind in ways that matter?

My Self Reflect.....

Living in a rural small town—often described as “the middle of nowhere”—useful kindness isn’t optional; it’s essential to the health and success of our community. I’ve had to learn, sometimes the hard way, to set aside bitterness and hurt for the greater good. I may not have always called it “useful goodness,” but in practice, that has been the standard I’ve tried to live by.

Several years ago, I was asked to attend a meeting about our community gardens and how people could work together to support them. If you know me, you know how passionate I am about our free, pick-your-own fruits and vegetables. During that meeting, the conversation shifted to Easter egg hunts, and someone asked me, “When is the Mayor’s Easter Egg Hunt?” I shared the date and time, assuming they were trying to avoid a conflict.

Instead, a woman seated behind me made a motion to hold their hunt at the exact same time as ours. The motion was seconded, and the group voted in favor—without a pause, and without regard to the fact that I was sitting in the room.

In the days that followed, I struggled. I still advertised the other hunt, even though it conflicted with the one my husband and I had planned. It took everything in me to walk back into that meeting room, knowing the decision had been made so casually and so personally. As I distributed Easter event flyers, I caught myself wondering whether I should quietly bury their flyer or skip tagging their event online. It hurt—but was that really being usefully good?

Before I take action, send a message, or even post a comment, I run it through what I call my “checkmate system.” I ask myself three questions: Who does this help? How does it help? And why does it matter? If the benefit comes back only to me, then it’s probably not something I need to do.

That’s the hard work of useful kindness—choosing what is good for the whole, even when it costs you personally.