Little Things

Last Thursday I could not get my toddler to put his pants on. He wanted to run around in his diaper, socks, and shirt. I wanted him to wear the pants. It is the end of January in Vermont, and it’s cold. I refused to wrestle with him; he refused to let me put them on without a struggle. It was not a good moment, and I ended up in tears. The thing is that it wasn’t just his rejection of the pants. On most days, this would be a minor issue. It was the cumulative effect of a number of teeny, tiny little things that added up.

Isn’t that how it often is? It’s the little things that make you cranky, that weigh you down, that leave you feeling like you are dragging a bag of rocks behind you. These are the things that lead to tears, harsh words, and emotional meltdowns.

I have watched people walk through trials and impossibly difficult seasons, live through trauma and tragedy. These times are excruciatingly hard and undeniably painful. Support and care is essential, and many times a community will gather around the person who is suffering. There are times when these experiences leave their own battle wounds, and there are times when the person who is suffering walks out stronger and more sure than ever before.

But there is a different kind of pain and struggle that comes from the little injuries of daily life. Sleepless nights with a young child, ugly words spoken in the context of a loving relationship, rain that leaves the hems of your pants wet for hours, being left out of a social engagement you badly want to be a to be a part of. These are minor issues, yet they add up and leave their own battle wounds. These are the little pains that leave us dull and burdened, dragging through a life we would rather explode through.

Someone once told me that these little burdens added up to a “slow death.” If that is true, than I believe there is also another, brighter side to the coin. If the small pains have the power to slowly seep the life out of us, than I believe that the small joys also hold great power. If it is the little things that can ruin a day, than it is the little things that can help redeem it.

Luke 12:6-7 says, “Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? Yet not one of them is forgotten by God. Indeed, the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.” I had my hair cut yesterday, and the floor was quickly covered in clippings. If God says that He has each of those hairs numbered, that He knows which ones were cut and which ones I lost in the shower this morning, then I wholeheartedly believe that He is in all the details, in all the little things.

I believe that He is in the perfectly warm morning cup of coffee, the sun shining through the icy tree branches, and the soft burning of the wood stove. I believe He is in the unexpected phone call from a friend, in the snuggle from a child, and in the crisp freshness of clean sheets. I believe He is in each of the beautiful, comforting, and pleasant moments that sneak into even the most challenging of days. And I believe that in all of these teeny, tiny little moments He is reminding us of His love and His goodness.

The things about these little miracle moments is that they can be easy to overlook. The little burdens seem impossible to ignore, seem to scream and shout in our faces. The little joys whisper softly in our ear. We need special eyes to see the blessed little moments, special ears to hear their whisper.

If you want to be more open and aware of these little moments, it takes a special mindfulness and intentionality. I encourage you to pray that you would be open to these moments, that you would not miss one of the whispers God is sending you. Pray while you are brushing your teeth or putting your contacts in, preparing your mind and heart for the day as you prepare your body. Then, look for these moments. It seems that recognizing and appreciating these moments is a skill that gets strengthened with practice. Once you see your favorite song on the radio as a gentle reminder that you are loved, it will become easier to be aware of the other little reminders all around you. Then, write them down. Write down the beauty and comfort you find in the little moments, and revisit the list when the small burdens become overwhelming.

This increased awareness can help reveal the power of the little joys. We can fill ourselves up on these little joys and their message, a reminder that the little burdens are not the final word. We can soak them in and carry them with us, strengthening us to press through the tiny arrows and hear all that the little moments have to say.