Lord of the Small.

“Praise to the Lord of the small broken things,
Who sees the poor sparrow that cannot take wing
Who loves the lame child, and the wretch in the street;
Who comforts their sorrows and washes their feet.”

Some little ways God has been showing how huge and awesome He is by giving me little blessing-moments (along with big blessings).

Wednesday night was prayer meeting, and Pas paired everyone up, some in groups of three. He put me with a lady about my mom’s age, who I had never seen or noticed in church before (though apparently others knew who she was). I was a little nervous, but decided to just act like she was a peer that I was meeting for the first time. As we chatted briefly and quietly before praying, I came to realize that she has been in and out of church for years, and thinks–no, is sure–that she is not born again. I began to share the truth of the Gospel with her. For the nest 20 minutes at least, though we were supposed to be praying, I shared scripture after scripture with her. But she continued to waver. Finally I realized that she was not going to make a decision for Christ tonight, no matter what I said. So we prayed, and I continue to pray that God will just work on her heart and send others her way that they may tell her again of her need for Christ, and how to accept Him. I am thankful for the chance to share God’s Word with her. It’s really amazing how God helps us when we need it, and this is a prime example. He kept bringing to mind the right scripture needed to answer her questions and combat her concerns. Though I was discouraged that she did not accept Christ that night, I was joyful over how God used me.

After the meeting that night, I went up to the platform and pulled out my guitar to practice a song for Sunday. All of a sudden there were seven or eight kids around me, watching my guitar intently. Of course they wanted to touch it and ask questions about it. Then one of the boys, a 13-year-old, burst out “Can we have a choir?” He suggested a song, and the music that rose from that platform was enough to rival the angels. (At least so far as my mind can fathom right now.) Those kids sang “Open the Eyes of my Heart” with such sincerity and joy while I played the guitar for them. Adults down among the pews turned to watch and listened with smiles. And hopefully we will be singing that this Sunday. It just made my heart smile to see and hear those children singing like that.

Thursday (yesterday) I went to the public school. I wasn’t super motivated. Pas had some other stuff to do so I took public transportation with my cumbersome guitar in tow. Grease from my Mexican fried rice spilled on the inside of my new little bag from Barbados and got all over my sunglasses and chapstick and pens. It was HOT HOT HOT. But you know what? I wasn’t upset. I didn’t get all down in the dumps, even though I was a little annoyed. Because the kids. They showered me with attention and hugs, or stroked my arms or hair, or peppered me with questions about America and white people. I loved it. They were so precious, and I praised God for the little ones that make me smile and laugh even when I’m uncomfortable and on the verge of frustration. It was a happy day.

Today, the little girls at the preschool played with my hair. For a solid twenty minutes. And if you know me, you know I’m a touchy-feely person, and when people play with my hair–love it. But for some reason I hadn’t really wanted the girls to touch my hair that much. Maybe because they have odd-looking sores, or come from rough homes and who knows what happens there, or because they constantly cough or seem to have a cold. But today, I just let it go. (Maybe because we watched Frozen this morning..) I didn’t care if they were sick or had bugs or whatever. I let them run their fingers through my hair and use a grimy comb to “make it pretty”. I didn’t care. There is incredible relief and peace in letting go, you know? And this was such a small thing, but it can be applied to big things too: situations that didn’t work out like you planned, or just won’t happen at all. Mastering an action in a small-scale situation can prepare you for the same action in a larger scale situation.

So those were my little blessing-moments. Let go, and live. Let go, and don’t worry. Let go, and let God.

“Lord of the Small”