You know when something defeats you time and time again, and you end up just feeling worthless even though it might be something small–like not screwing up at work, for instance. And you get so frustrated because the world is a big place with people figuring out much more difficult things with every passing moment, fighting real battles and dying for worthier names and causes, and you just can’t get your crap together at work. And you feel lame and helpless as you watch people be patient with you.
And you can’t seem to pull your act together or be who you know you ought to be, and suddenly your inadequacies at work snowball into who you are as a person and the trajectory of your life, and you become lost as you internalize every emotion and are consumed by illness that is introspective obsession. So before work you finally remember to simply bow before God and ask for help.You send a simple prayer asking him to make you a servant, to make you salt and light and useful. And then you drive to work and get there early, and you don’t forget anything. In fact, you follow up on things that are actually helpful and your captain notices and the whole night runs smoothly. Not just you, but your entire team and section magically seems to always start and finish first while the others are scrambling or forgetting things, and your clients are complimentary and friendly, and the only time you thought you messed up because you spilled wine on someone turned out just to be him teasing you, and it makes you laugh. So you head to the kitchen to clock out, say goodnight to the people who you discover are slowly turning into friends, snag an extra bouquet or two of white flowers, and waltz out like it was all a walk in the park.
And then you sit in the car and think about it, and you thank God. Because when God said ‘He who is faithful in small things will also be faithful in great things,’ He wasn’t referring only to men, but to Himself. And if He can take time to remember you, and hear your prayer about such a small thing, imagine what He could do with the great things. And then you ask God to never let you forget that, because you do that. you forget. It’s not God who is not moving, it’s you who’s always forgotten how many times He’s moved before. And the next time you slip that fetching forrest green catering shirt over your head, and adjust your black shoes, and are handed a plate of pan-seared prime rib with crab stuffed halibut, you better remember. Remember that God of small things. And don’t lose heart. Don’t forget.