The Big Things

Everyone talks about "the little things",

those bits and pieces of a day that make up a good life...

...The sunlight streaming through a meadow;

fresh raspberries along the lane;

the joy that shines from on a child's face when they discover something new.

Those things, in reality, often are the big things.

They matter.

The sum total of our existence is a collection of little moments,

many of which seem insignificant until we see them from a distance.

Little things.

They are what mothering is all about!

And they can drive you to insanity, if you don't see the bigger picture.

It can feel like life is an endless succession of wiping up messes,

cleaning dirty clothes, stopping fights, kissing boo-boos,

giving baths and praying for grace not to lose it when toddler drops yet another item in the toilet!

Sometimes, it's hard to see the forest for the trees, ya know?

I need to remind myself, sometimes daily, that these little things are important.

My children and their little needs matter.

People matter.

A few days ago, I was talking to my husband and he said,

 "Oh, by the way, can you make supper for me and the two boys I have here to help me today?"

I muttered something about wishing he'd given me a little more notice,

all the while mentally running through a list of the food I had on hand and wondering what I would fix for three men.
Sometimes a change in plans [aka: cooking food instead of serving leftovers for supper] can feel like a big thing.

But after browsing through a cookbook, I got some inspiration and was anxious to tackle something new!
I was able to use up some fresh produce from the garden,
and the joy I felt watching them hungrily devour the meal I'd made was reward enough.

Less than 24 hours later, we got the phone call that rocked our world:

one of those boys who had eaten at our table the night before had been killed in a tragic tractor accident.

Disbelief, shock and grief filled our hearts.

The "sacrifice" of my time to make a supper for the farmers suddenly seemed like a precious gift I'd been given:

one last chance to spend time with a young man whose life was almost finished.

His last supper - eaten at my table.

Death has a way of sharpening our view, of bringing clarity to our cluttered lives.

It reminds us what is most important,

that none of us has been promised tomorrow.

In the chaos of living, let's remember to love people.

Tell them what they mean to you, and most importantly, what they mean to Jesus.

The little things we do today? They matter.

Truly, sometimes we look back and realize they really were

the big things.