Recently a dear older gentleman in my church orchestra has been diagnosed with cancer. This man is one of the most giving, kind gentlemen you would ever meet. Soft-spoken and unassuming, he has a passion for sleight of hand magic tricks and a beautiful violin touch. He voluntarily organizes orchestra music throughout the week at church. He is EVER so faithful to the worship ministry and I’ve never heard one negative remark from him or about him in the ten years I’ve known him.
I took a meal to him after his hospital release earlier in the week. Please think absolutely nothing of that statement until you’ve read this entire blog. You see, after spending a few moments with him, I was deeply convicted as my young daughter and I left his home. She is an outgoing child and he was having such fun showing her a little magic. Why did it take cancer for me to decide to take a meal to him? Why had I never invited him over to eat dinner with our family after church on a Sunday morning? Why had I not spent more time asking him “How was your week? Do anything new recently?”? After all, I’ve played in the same orchestra with him for ten years. We’ve spent Christmas Eve together (three services) many of those years. We’ve practiced together at least once a week for two hours for about 40 weeks a year… for the last ten years. That’s 400 weeks. 800 hours. And yet, the first paragraph above is all I know about this quiet man who has been committed to serving God.
I know this: One day, he will hear the words, “Well done, thou good and faithful servant.”
I know this also: “Love your neighbor as yourself” means you can’t be staring in the mirror.
Phil 2: 4-6 NIV “Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves. Each of you should look not only to your own interests, but also to the interests of others. Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus:”