"Be faithful in small things because it is in them that your strength lies."
Who would have thought that it would be the small, daily rituals that would make my life so rich? I still don't even recognize it myself, many days. But, in my quieter moments, when I stop and really think about it, I can see the joy leaking out of the most benign places.
...placing my grandma's cross-stitched linen napkin on the table and topping it off with a blazing zinnia from the flower bed just outside the door, effortlessly exalting our kitchen table to greatness
...meandering through the house, watering the plants that I have managed, somehow, to keep alive for longer than a season
...dusting a week's, no, a month's worth of dust off a bedside table, so that I can sink deep into my bed covers with the blessed heaviness that comes from contentment, rather than from extended regret
...tucking the boys in on the couch each morning as they begin their extended wake up routine while I drink that first cup of coffee and scratch my back
I could go on and on...
...curling up on the couch for read-alouds
...leftovers for lunch
...walking the dog
All of it, every single, minute act alights one upon another creating a whisper rush of love. It seeps into the cracks and crevices of every heart in this house, shoring them up for leaner times. And it makes its mark on me, too. Loving on these creatures is an expansive action, swelling my heart to new shapes and sizes.
I must remember this when I am tempted to forgo the minor details of any old regular day. God is surely in these small things and I want Him to find me there too.