Years ago, at a church I attended, we used to have a lot of meetings. Some of the meetings would include a meal or light snacks. Frequently, the person in charge of the meeting would arrive early only to find that there were not enough cups or plates, or spoons or a combination of all or everything.
This problem affected those meetings and was recognized as a problem but no one seemed to have an answer or care if there ever would be an answer, because they were involved in larger issues, things that were of importance to God.
Things went along this way until an older couple decided to own the problem and to treat the problem as if it were a special ministry from God that they were called to do. With them this small problem was not a problem but a blessing, because it gave them the opportunity to serve the church in a special way.
They never announced what they were doing, they just went about solving the problem quietly and unseen. Suddenly, meetings had enough paper supplies; more than enough. The supply room shelves, which once were empty, were now always full. At first, no one knew how this was happening. It was like Christmas morning when you opened the supply room door.
One afternoon as I was on my way home from work, I stopped in at the Church and went to check to make sure we had enough supplies for an upcoming meeting. As I entered the building I saw them, working silently, stocking the shelves with supplies that they had purchased. It was as if I was watching a holy sacrament being performed.
I did not interrupt them.
I knew the answer to my question.
Featured Post
The Suffering Servant
Isaiah 53:5-7 “5 But he was wounded for our transgressions, crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the punishment that made us whole, and ...
Saturday, August 10, 2019
Sunday, August 4, 2019
It’s the Small Things
I recently read an article written by a person who had corresponded with a man in prison serving a life sentence with no chance of parole. In his last letter, this man realized that he had just a few years to live and that he would never see the outside world again. The letter went something like this:
“ I deserve to be here. I have wasted my life. When I think back on it, its not the big things that I think about, but the small things that I miss the most.”
“I miss the rain. The feeling of it falling from the sky and down on my head. And the way rain smells as it falls in the trees.
I miss church choirs and church bells. Sunday mornings.
I miss dragonflies over ponds. And fish jumping.
I miss fried trout over a campfire.
I miss gardens and farms with fields that stretch as far as you can see.
I miss animals like dogs and hogs. And birds.
I miss toast with homemade jam.
I miss picking berries on bushes and seeing a cornfield full and ripe with a small breeze blowing.
I miss coffee on the porch when it rains.
I miss people talking to you for no reason; people you can trust with what you say.
I miss waking up and hearing people you love talking in the kitchen.
All these things...that’s what heaven is. All these things. And that means that there are no small things, are there? Nothing is little or insignificant. Everything is huge and holy and so stuffed with miracles that the miracles leak out and give us hope for this world. And maybe for ourselves.”
In the end, it is the small things that will save us.
“ I deserve to be here. I have wasted my life. When I think back on it, its not the big things that I think about, but the small things that I miss the most.”
“I miss the rain. The feeling of it falling from the sky and down on my head. And the way rain smells as it falls in the trees.
I miss church choirs and church bells. Sunday mornings.
I miss dragonflies over ponds. And fish jumping.
I miss fried trout over a campfire.
I miss gardens and farms with fields that stretch as far as you can see.
I miss animals like dogs and hogs. And birds.
I miss toast with homemade jam.
I miss picking berries on bushes and seeing a cornfield full and ripe with a small breeze blowing.
I miss coffee on the porch when it rains.
I miss people talking to you for no reason; people you can trust with what you say.
I miss waking up and hearing people you love talking in the kitchen.
All these things...that’s what heaven is. All these things. And that means that there are no small things, are there? Nothing is little or insignificant. Everything is huge and holy and so stuffed with miracles that the miracles leak out and give us hope for this world. And maybe for ourselves.”
In the end, it is the small things that will save us.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)