The days of small things

“I see you’re climbing mountains again young lady!” an older gentleman’s words startle me out of my own thoughts as we pass each other on the sidewalk. I’m walking up a hill a couple of miles from my house, and I won’t lie, it does feel a bit like a mountain. I don’t immediately recognize the man. But then, he smiles, and I see it. It’s George, my physical therapy buddy from a few years back. His affinity for calling me young lady keeps him high on my list of all-time favorite people.

We stand there in the late evening sun and catch up a bit. I had been in PT to deal with an issue I was having with my knee, and he had been there to recover from a stroke. His recovery seems complete, and I mention how great he looks. “It’s been a whole lotta small, silly, and sometimes ridiculous things I’ve had to do, ” he laughed. “But, yeah, it’s led to a mighty big recovery! I’m climbing mountains again! And it looks like you are too!”

We say our goodbyes and set off to finish our mountain climbing. I had forgotten how wise that man was. “Small, silly, and sometimes even ridiculous things … have led to a mighty big recovery.”

If only I could remember that in real life.

The small things matter. The little stuff that feels unimportant … isn’t as inconsequential as I think. It is often the only way the big work gets done.

And in these days of large problems and overwhelming heartache; in these weeks of navigating our way through a world that seems intent on setting itself on fire, maybe we all need to hear these words. The small ways that we live out our days matter. The changes we try and make; the seemingly trivial conversations and work that feels mind-numbing and less than world-changing? It really does matter.

George and I spent our days of PT doing weird stretches and exercises which felt pointless most of the time. Yet, all these years later, he can walk and talk in ways he could not when I first met him. And my climb up that neighborhood “mountain” is made possible only by the slow, slight ways I learned to change my lifelong gait and keep my foot turned in when I walk.

Little things. Big changes.

But, this can be hard to see when you feel stuck in the days of smallness. It can be easy to think that nothing you do is of any consequence. And it can be tempting to want to skip over these things and get on with the mountain moving, life-changing work it feels like you were meant to do. I know this feeling all too well. The Lord and I have long done battle over this ground.

It was the prophet, Zechariah, a mouthpiece for the Lord himself, who encouraged the Israelites on this same issue thousands of years ago. They were attempting to do the tremendous job of rebuilding the temple in Jerusalem. The holy place had been in ruins for over 70 years when God sends them to reconstruct the rubble.

But rebuilding a temple is not for the faint of heart. Especially in 519 BC. This new temple was only going to be a mere shadow of the once great structure Solomon had built. Why should they even try? Would it really matter?

But, the Lord sends this message through Zechariah to those tired temple builders. “Do not despise the day of small things,” he has Zechariah tell them (Zechariah 4:10).

Brick stacking. Log cutting. Day by day repetitive tasks that seemed unending. Piece by piece temple building. The House of the Lord; built by the hands of his created people who thought it didn’t matter.

But here’s the thing. God wasn’t just building a temple. He was building a people. He was shaping souls and hearts; training eyes to see and ears to hear. Because there’s a truth I often forget:

God loves the days of small things. It’s where he does his best work.

Me, though? I am impatient. I want to get on with the big stuff. I want to climb the mountains before I learn to take the first steps. I want the big changes in my life, and in the world without the small necessary work it takes to get there.

What difference do my quiet words, my daily work, my unseen prayers make? Do they matter?

Big and important work is often done in regular moments; in the middle of ordinary days. God chooses to move through us. He chooses to be present with us in the list-making, in the dishwashing and the neverending teenage disciplining issues, in the quiet conversations, the stacks of work, and the constant problems that come out of nowhere. The Lord, himself, whispers over the hum-drum of it all,  Do not despise the days of small things.

Emily Freeman’s words from her book Simply Tuesday paint their way into my mind as I finish my walk and watch the sun slip behind the towering Georgia pines.

“There is a daily-ness to my work, a small-moment perspective that whispers for me to connect with the work in my right-now hands, not because it’s going to become something Big and Important, but because Someone who is Big and Important is here, with me, in me, today.” 

These days of simply doing the work in front of us remind us that we serve a big God who chooses to stoop down and walk right here next to us every little step of the way.

Seeing George helps me remember a truth I often want to ignore. God blesses us where we are. He uses us where he has placed us. And we can push against it and long to be somewhere else, doing work that we think is more important or more worthwhile. We can overlook the millions of little ways he moves into our everyday lives … or we can do the things he has given us to do and trust that he will make them matter.

So go on. Don’t be overwhelmed by the immensity of the task before you. Don’t look at this sideways world and think you are too small or too underqualified to make a difference. Do the exercises, wash the dishes, settle the 100th argument, clean off your desk, have a difficult conversation, finish the spreadsheet or write the words. It all matters. Who knows what mountain God is preparing you to climb, who knows what skill he is teaching you that just might change everything.

Do not despise the days of small things. No. Embrace them. And keep climbing those mountains … one step at a time.

“Truly I tell you, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, move from here to there and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you” (Matthew 17:20).