It's not always the little/simple/small things

Six or so months ago I was sitting in an office chair at my dentist, trying to wrap my head around a really big number. I needed a root canal and we didn't have any dental insurance. Hello expense! My tooth is now fully repaired: tunneled out, filled in, and covered up with a fake. Although my wallet is a lot skinnier, there's- thankfully- still a little money in it. 

I must have seemed pretty terrified as I looked over the projected cost of the canal because the lady helping me was trying extra hard to break the news gently and with a bit of humor. A few times as she went through the dentist's plan of attack she said things like "this part isn't too expensive, but if you don't want it, it is something we can hold off on for now." As I replied, "Yes- let's wait for that part until my wallet recovers," she laughed and said, "It's the little things, right?!"

It's the little things, right?

Saving a couple hundred dollars here and there matters because it all adds up.

Gifts and graces are like that too, aren't they? When we savor the little gifts and graces throughout our days, they add up to a lifetime of small but beautiful things.

little things: chubby baby thighs and that sweet thumb in his mouth

little thing: stealing bites of cookie dough while baking

little things: party balloons :)

There's been a lot of talk about the little things lately. Take Ann Voskamp's book One Thousand Gifts on the New York Time's best seller list or the wild popularity of Kelle Hampton's Enjoying the Small Things blog, for example. I really enjoy this emphasis. When we purpose to enjoy the little things in our lives we cultivate a grateful way of living and who can have distain for something that makes us grateful people?

And yet.

And yet I get a little worried that on the pendulum between Big Things and Little Things, we've swung a bit too far.

As someone who just got done with a Big Thing (our adoption), I see it in myself. I find myself wanting to settle into a life where I express my faith through five minute devotionals, gratitude for my daily cup of tea, 45 second prayers with my two-year-old before bed, and an hour of corporate worship on Sunday. It adds up to a staggering two hours each week. Four if I have a volunteer ministry related meeting that week. I have shameful thoughts like I'm really busy with my life right now, so I'll demonstrate my affection for God with these Little Things. I've already done my Big Thing, thankyouverymuch.

It's so unsatisfying though, isn't it? Not quite two years ago I went to a weekend women's retreat where we were challenged to give more of our time, energy, and lives to God (an excellent challenge) and I was astonished to see how many Christian women were deeply dissatisfied with their lives. I will never forget it. I sat on the hard wooden floor of a large cabin with twenty or so other women, most about 10 years older than me, and watched them cry. With tears they talked about carpools and laundry and the trouble of having no time left for God. Fresh out of seminary without any kids I could not yet relate, but it scared and frustrated me. One older, wiser woman in our cabin responded with that magical combination of gentleness and grace and told us- in better words I'm sure- that it's not really an option in life, having time for God, it's a necessity.

And really, I don't think it's even about having time for God as much as it is about having an entire life for God.

We should develop appreciation for the thousand gifts God gives us like the clean warm clothing we pull out of the dryer for our babies.We should enjoy the small things like a watercolor rainbow or the firm, pleasant stoke of a purring cat pushing up against our legs. But we've also got to nurture and feed our appetite for Big Things. The bold things. The lifestyle altering things. The life changing things.

While we're reading all these books and blogs with tips for everyday living, we've got to remember that in the book God left us, he doesn't give us examples of how to do Little Things for him as much as he gave us a book filled with poetry and prose about Big Things. It's a book about people who lived and breathed obedience. People who uprooted and followed him to new lands, who would rather be mulled to death- let alone leave the laundry unfolded- than stop praying to him, who risked their lives and sexuality to save thousands, who prophesied in a wholly wild and unsophisticated way, one who was crucified to save us, and one who spent years wasting in prison for the sake of the gospel. I can't help but speculate that none of these people would be impressed by the minutes I spend in devotion each day or by the small gratitude I feel for my cup of tea.

I want to be a grateful person. I want to be someone who lives with deep appreciation for every good gift that comes from above. What I don't want is to be someone who satiates her call to Big Things with Little Things.

It's a scary thing to want Big Things because people who say Yes to big things don't usually get to live the American dream and all the luxury it promises. They give up wealth in exchange for generosity. They devote their time to study and service instead of consuming hobbies. They loose prestige and gain humility. They count as loss all the things- all the possessions, power, and popularity- they once held dear. They might even be viewed as the scum of the earth for their faith, their decisions, and the way they live. But on the other side of the pendulum: they aren't struggling to find God between the carpool and the laundry either. From what I've noticed about them, they seem to have all of God because God is all they have.

My hands, probably like yours, are open and ready for the Little Things. I'm scared to keep them there, ready for God to call me to the Big Thing, but- in Christ- I want them to be open. Even if they tremble in the anticipation.

After all, it wasn't so long ago that I held my shaking hands open to receive a call to adoption. And now my open hands are holding my son's. In love. In Christ.

xo