There, it’s in the Word itself, plain as day. At least in the Message version. “Practice playing Second Fiddle” (Romans 12: 10) Such precisely perfect words for me today in particular, the entire passage of the devotions I opened. Lush with richness, all of it, varied and fresh with new insight, simply by re-wording it all.
I think especially the idea of being a part of the body . . . “Each part gets its meaning from the body as a whole, not the other way around” And “Each of us finds our meaning and function as a part of His body”. My husband and I . . ok, more the “I” part of the equation since it was I who wanted to leave in the first place . . had quietly decided to return to the church we went to when we met, which was started by his best friend, who is now the Associate Pastor. It’s gone through many evolutions along the way, and we’ve remained friends, albeit distant ones in the 20 year interim. But we both felt it was far more than mere coincidence that after not seeing them for years at a stretch, we have found ourselves together with them 5 times in the past month and a half. And, I think, we may both be ready to engage in ministry again, after hiding in the back pews of the larger church we’ve been attending.
It will mean changing. Big time, perhaps. For one thing, his friend and I still cannot seem to connect much at all, although his wife is a sweet, gentle, artistic and intelligent soul. I’m tempted to say he doesn’t like me, but I know in my head that’s not entirely true. I also know that even if he didn’t, it should not matter. And further, I know that we will not be going back to be ministered to, but to serve.
You keep chiseling away at every ounce of pride in me, don’t you? Helping me practice playing second fiddle.
The present Pastor reminded the listeners during the service of a word of prophecy spoken over the congregation some months back that I at first didn’t grasp as well as when I thought about it further: “I will restore the years the locusts have eaten, but you will not being going back to the ‘good old days’. It will be something new that will be returned to you, something that I have not done before”. Perplexing? Yet I think my husband and I may be a small part of its fulfillment.
Ah, but Lord . . I’m whiney today, despite your multiple blessings. My knee has hurt for more than 2 months now, growing increasingly less dependable, and I find I must wait yet more days to see a specialist. You’ve definitely taught me greater compassion for those who suffer with chronic pain, and this is so small compared to the huge challenges so many others are dealing with (such as the friend who just told me she was diagnosed with the same thing that just killed my mother-in-law) This betrayal of my flesh has brought to life the passages about the intricacies of the body’s wholeness, and how one part not pulling its weight affects the rest of the body far more than I could imagine. Imagining isn’t even close to reality.
“Love one another from the center of who you are; don’t fake it. Run for dear life from evil, hold on for dear life to good. Be good friends who love deeply; practice playing second fiddle.
Don’t burn out; keep yourselves fueled and aflame. Be alert servants of the Master, cheerfully expectant. Don’t quit in hard times; pray all the harder. Help needy Christians; be inventive in hospitality.”
I have a lot to do.
It’s so weird. The more I give in, and give up, and let go, the more contented I am. It just does not make any sense. I have sung in many choirs, and have often been seated as a first chair alto (as well as farther down the line) so understand the concept of playing second. There is no harmony within the sections without the seconds. They are not necessarily any less talented than the first chairs, or if so, perhaps only slightly so. They are excellent followers, readily supporting the leadership of the Firsts, and essential to the richness and depth of the choir. Not all of us are called to be Leaders. The times I have taken the mantle upon myself (or had it thrust on me!), usually due to a lack of anyone better, have not always been fond memories. I am far better suited to be Second in command, at the very most.
“ (3) I'm speaking to you out of deep gratitude for all that God has given me, and especially as I have responsibilities in relation to you. Living then, as every one of you does, in pure grace, it's important that you not misinterpret yourselves as people who are bringing this goodness to God. No, God brings it all to you. The only accurate way to understand ourselves is by what God is and by what he does for us, not by what we are and what we do for him.
(6) So since we find ourselves fashioned into all these excellently formed and marvelously functioning parts in Christ's body, let's just go ahead and be what we were made to be, without enviously or pridefully comparing ourselves with each other, or trying to be something we aren't.”
Second Fiddle. The perfect place for me.
I think especially the idea of being a part of the body . . . “Each part gets its meaning from the body as a whole, not the other way around” And “Each of us finds our meaning and function as a part of His body”. My husband and I . . ok, more the “I” part of the equation since it was I who wanted to leave in the first place . . had quietly decided to return to the church we went to when we met, which was started by his best friend, who is now the Associate Pastor. It’s gone through many evolutions along the way, and we’ve remained friends, albeit distant ones in the 20 year interim. But we both felt it was far more than mere coincidence that after not seeing them for years at a stretch, we have found ourselves together with them 5 times in the past month and a half. And, I think, we may both be ready to engage in ministry again, after hiding in the back pews of the larger church we’ve been attending.
It will mean changing. Big time, perhaps. For one thing, his friend and I still cannot seem to connect much at all, although his wife is a sweet, gentle, artistic and intelligent soul. I’m tempted to say he doesn’t like me, but I know in my head that’s not entirely true. I also know that even if he didn’t, it should not matter. And further, I know that we will not be going back to be ministered to, but to serve.
You keep chiseling away at every ounce of pride in me, don’t you? Helping me practice playing second fiddle.
The present Pastor reminded the listeners during the service of a word of prophecy spoken over the congregation some months back that I at first didn’t grasp as well as when I thought about it further: “I will restore the years the locusts have eaten, but you will not being going back to the ‘good old days’. It will be something new that will be returned to you, something that I have not done before”. Perplexing? Yet I think my husband and I may be a small part of its fulfillment.
Ah, but Lord . . I’m whiney today, despite your multiple blessings. My knee has hurt for more than 2 months now, growing increasingly less dependable, and I find I must wait yet more days to see a specialist. You’ve definitely taught me greater compassion for those who suffer with chronic pain, and this is so small compared to the huge challenges so many others are dealing with (such as the friend who just told me she was diagnosed with the same thing that just killed my mother-in-law) This betrayal of my flesh has brought to life the passages about the intricacies of the body’s wholeness, and how one part not pulling its weight affects the rest of the body far more than I could imagine. Imagining isn’t even close to reality.
“Love one another from the center of who you are; don’t fake it. Run for dear life from evil, hold on for dear life to good. Be good friends who love deeply; practice playing second fiddle.
Don’t burn out; keep yourselves fueled and aflame. Be alert servants of the Master, cheerfully expectant. Don’t quit in hard times; pray all the harder. Help needy Christians; be inventive in hospitality.”
I have a lot to do.
It’s so weird. The more I give in, and give up, and let go, the more contented I am. It just does not make any sense. I have sung in many choirs, and have often been seated as a first chair alto (as well as farther down the line) so understand the concept of playing second. There is no harmony within the sections without the seconds. They are not necessarily any less talented than the first chairs, or if so, perhaps only slightly so. They are excellent followers, readily supporting the leadership of the Firsts, and essential to the richness and depth of the choir. Not all of us are called to be Leaders. The times I have taken the mantle upon myself (or had it thrust on me!), usually due to a lack of anyone better, have not always been fond memories. I am far better suited to be Second in command, at the very most.
“ (3) I'm speaking to you out of deep gratitude for all that God has given me, and especially as I have responsibilities in relation to you. Living then, as every one of you does, in pure grace, it's important that you not misinterpret yourselves as people who are bringing this goodness to God. No, God brings it all to you. The only accurate way to understand ourselves is by what God is and by what he does for us, not by what we are and what we do for him.
(6) So since we find ourselves fashioned into all these excellently formed and marvelously functioning parts in Christ's body, let's just go ahead and be what we were made to be, without enviously or pridefully comparing ourselves with each other, or trying to be something we aren't.”
Second Fiddle. The perfect place for me.