“Do nothing out of selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility consider others as more important than yourselves. Everyone should look not to his own interests, but to the interests of others.” (Philippians 2:3-4 CSB)
Some people live big, loud, Christian lives. They exercise their spiritual gifts and their unique talents in the spotlight— leading worship, teaching, preaching, administrating, serving, giving generously. God, no doubt, uses the genuine, yielded hearts of talented people to spread the Gospel and influence believers to grow in their faith. These outgoing, front of the house, leaders and influencers are needed in the church. They drive discipleship, keep the church running smoothly, and set the stage for worship. I’ve known many leaders like this who’ve maintained humility and kept the focus where it belongs, on Jesus Christ. I’m sure you have, as well.
But there are countless other believers living lives of quiet service, behind the scenes: the introverts, the closet prayer warriors, those with a deep devotional life, the people cleaning up the kitchen after a church supper, the quiet folks and unsung heroes. Is there value in living a quiet life of devotion and service that goes mostly unnoticed? How does God feel about those folks? Does he see them?
When I was a little girl, we would travel to my mom’s homeplace in SC every summer. She grew up in a small rural community, in the country. Mom was the third oldest of seven girls in her family. The story is told that my grandfather kept hoping for a boy to help him on the farm. When the last ones arrived—twin girls (!)—he famously said, now that they’re coming in pairs, I believe it’s time to stop.
Well, that set of precious identical twins became my most favorite aunts. I couldn’t wait to see them each time we’d visit. The scene of the twins sitting in the old wooden rockers under the carport, waiting to greet us with a warm hug, is burned in my memory. My aunts, Joan and Jean, were so identical it took years before us kids could tell them apart. They never married. As their older sisters each married and moved to other parts of the country, it fell to them to care for their aging parents.
Joan (Jo, as we called her) and Jean showered us with love and attention. Each Sunday morning, we were greeted with ooh’s and ahh’s as we emerged in our Sunday best ready to head to church. They made us feel like movie stars or the most important and loved children in the world. We tagged along with the girls each day as they did various chores, worked the garden, and fed the many farm cats. When we wanted to fish in the pond behind the house, the girls led us to the spillway and proceeded to show us how to dig for worms in the dark rich mud. In the evenings there was no better place to be than in their lap or snuggled up next to them on the old, cracked leather sofa.
My aunts were sweet and loving and hardworking, but the most important thing about them was their love for the Lord. They read their Bible every day and always read the daily devotion in Open Windows magazine. Faithful members of their little Baptist church, they worked in the nursery for many years, where they cared for children they came to see as their own.
One scene that played out almost daily in my grandparent’s home is forever etched in my memory. It was a beautiful display of humility, service, and love that impacted me greatly. The scene is of my twin aunts kneeling at the feet of their father, my grandfather, washing his feet in a basin of soapy water, drying them, and then massaging them with (green) rubbing alcohol. My brothers and I watched this loving scene play out hundreds of times during our childhood.
Maybe you immediately thought of Mary, washing the feet of Jesus and drying them with her hair. In my mind, my aunts’ token of love and affection presented a similar picture of servanthood and submission—even holiness. My aunts were devoted to their father and we never heard them complain about this humble task.
Jo and Jean worked side-by-side in a textile factory their entire lives, clipping loose strings, sewing tags, or folding shirts, until they eventually retired. They never traveled much outside their tiny rural community in South Carolina and never left my grandparents’ side until they passed away. But they were faithful to their church, prayed diligently for others, and loved the Lord and his Word with all their heart.
My aunts continued to live in the same home for many years after my grandparents died. They usually dressed in the same outfit up into their 80’s. They always slept in twin beds in the same bedroom. As the years went on, we continued to visit them regularly. My grown children have their own fond memories of visiting the girls. They followed them around the property, learned the art of worm-digging, and fought over who would sit beside them on the couch, just as we had. In fact, my daughter has a deep love of cats that I believe came from her great aunts. My Aunt Jean died in 2022, and her sister, not surprisingly, followed within a few months.
I believe my aunts have a place of honor in heaven. They never led a congregation in worship, wrote a book, taught in front of a crowd, or chaired a committee, but they lived with humility, quiet service, and personal devotion to the God they loved. Does God love the quiet ones, the overlooked ones, the unsung heroes? I believe the answer is “yes”. Their reward in heaven will be great and their joy unrivaled. The Bible tells us God values humility, selfless sacrifice, obedience, and holy devotion above all.
I have no doubt I will see my precious aunts again someday, perhaps washing the feet of their Savior, Jesus, at the foot of His very throne.
“He has shown you, O man, what is good; And what does the Lord require of you but to do justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God?” (Micah 6:8 NKJV)
Heart of the Matter 