I found freedom in high school on the stage. The shy, introverted farm girl became Mary on the morning after the resurrection, a detective sorting through clues, and innocent Snow White. In the safety of the bright lights and makeup and scripted dialogue, I could say the things I would never express and live out stories that sparked delight in my heart.
In a play, there’s the hero- the actor or actress with all the lines and spot on center stage. There’s the sidekick, and the folks who have no lines but get to dress up and fill out the spaces of the story. Someone needs to build the set and design the costumes and tell everyone where to stand. You don’t see them, but someone needs to run the lights and move things around when the scene changes. Each person has a role, and although one person might get the longest applause at the end, the story would not be complete without each person.
Somehow, we’ve allowed the person in the spotlight of our lives today to be the only one that matters. Well, I’m not doing this certain kind of work like them, we whisper as the comparison scale tips heavily in the other direction.
I’m just a stay-at-home mom.
I’m just the person at the cash register.
I’m just in the home office serving the people doing the hard work on the field.
I’m not really part of the production of proclaiming God’s glory to a hurting, hungry world because I’m only doing this, and not that.
But here’s the question bouncing around the edges of my heart: what if by playing my part with joy, using the gifts that God has given me, I see big things happen? Not that I alone accomplish big things. There will probably never be a biography written about my life, and people might not even read the stories I send home in newsletters. But what if my part backstage is just as important to the big picture of all that God wants to do in this world?
I remember the first time I had a line in our church’s Christmas kids’ cantata. I was so proud! I’m pretty sure I delivered that line with as much soul and character as I could muster. I gave it my all and didn’t worry that another kid got to do something funny or that this other girl had way more lines.
That’s what I want to do with the work that God has for me, the role He gives me in each season. I want to stop comparing my job to someone else’s, placing more importance on one or the other. I want to celebrate the ways that it all comes together to create art, to tell God’s story and show His beauty to a hurting and broken world. I long to find freedom in my own heart and in the world, in our homes and churches and friendships. I want to press in to being me, learning the quirky ways God chose to weave me together and the different ways He gifted others.
Doesn’t this bring our Father joy? When His kids find contentment and let go of comparison and judgment, it throws the curtain open wide for His hope to shine front and center and His glory to be the one thing that matters.
“I can’t imagine anything more dangerous to the enemy of our hearts than people who know who they are.” Emily P. Freeman, A Million Little Ways
- Side note- lest you are super impressed with my acting history, please know that my experience was limited to four (amazing!) years on my church’s drama team, and two semesters in college (and I didn’t actually ever make it on stage in college. I hung lights and sewed costumes). But I loved it!