The Days of Small Things

Sometimes my days disappear into the abyss of housework—the hungry bellies that I nourish produce an endless stream of food to make, dishes to clean, and piles of laundry to fold. Before I know it I can easily begin to feel as if the small and mundane work of my hands most characterizes these years of my life. If I am completely honest, it’s shockingly easy for a resentful spirit to breed in my heart over all the piles of dirty dishes and dirty laundry; and if I’m not watchful that turns into a bitterness at the people I love most for the care they require of me.

My pastor is preaching through the book of Zechariah right now. I was initially eager to hear his sermons because I’d never heard the study of a minor prophet from the pulpit, and I was eager to learn. I wasn’t expecting such rich encouragement. But I’ve unexpectedly discovered the Lord to meet me with grace for my vocation right in Zechariah—one of the very last books of the Old Testament.

Zechariah was a prophet in Jerusalem, to the exiles who had returned from Babylon to rebuild the Temple and reinstate occupancy in Israel. Prior to exile, Jerusalem had been besieged for years before it finally fell to Babylon. The city was destroyed. The temple was destroyed. Though the returning exiles were returning with all of that had been stolen from the Temple, the task before them was long, hard, and very surely tedious. What’s more, they faced unrelenting opposition from the people surrounding Jerusalem. Zechariah calls it a “day of small things” (4:10). It was a day for repentance, endurance, and diligence–a day of hard and slow work. It was not a time of great things, results, or quick successes. 

1 Chronicles 9 gives us a genealogy of the returned exiles, the very individuals Zechariah wrote for. And less a “day of small things” sounds vague to you, this chapter brings some clarity. Not only were walls being rebuilt but Temple practices were being restored. Many Levites came back to care for the Temple and they couldn’t all be the High Priest. There were some tasked with simply counting the Temple utensils, some simply watched over the Temple, others were appointed to care for the Temple furniture, and some over the preparation of the mixing spices for sacrifices. It was truly a day of very small things.

I recently spoke at a conference in NH, it was such a joy and yet I felt humbled the whole time. It all felt a little ridiculous—a total deviation from my days of small things. I was invited because of my writing job. I do the writing quickly while kids are napping when they’re playing quietly (yes, this is rare) after they’re in bed, or for a couple of hours here or there when someone else is with my kids. Everything in my life in this season could be characterized as the slow, plodding work of the “day of small things”, even this deviation from my normal small things, was only the result of another small work in my life.

A (very) slow read through the Return of the King has brought two kindred friends into view this past month. Eowyn and Merry. If you know the story then you’re well aware of their lot in the grand battle across Middle Earth. But if you’re as unfamiliar as I was until recently then all you need to know is that somehow they continued to get left behind. While they each had a role—and noble ones at that—they both felt the ache of small work in a time of big need. They both felt the ache of watching their friends and family enmeshed in the vital work of battle, while they were left to protect the home fires. I felt their pain as they were left behind, as they saw others contributing in the way they wished to. But I could also see their role's value—something neither appeared to recognize. 

I have had conversations with many friends over the last several years about the common youth group promise of our teen years: You can do great things for God! But it was more rightly understood that we should do great things, big things, for God. Like going on a foreign mission, or doing something worth getting our faith noticed. I wish instead that more of the message would have been preparing me for the day of small things. Isn’t that where we all find ourselves? We all have seasons of simply protecting the home fires, of being left behind, of unnoticed work.

So much of my life is full of quiet endurance and faithful diligence. My days are filled with the tedious work of caring for a home, nurturing my kids, and instructing them in righteousness—a very slow and very small work. But how good it is! While I am sure that no one jumped at the task of counting Temple utensils, it was still an important and necessary job. Rebuilding walls, one stone or brick at a time was surely no one's idea of a fulfilling day-to-day job. But over the span of a year? Invaluable. Those small things build and develop, as faithfulness always does.

Maybe you are like me and acquainted with the ache of feeling left behind, tending the home fires, while others do the noticeably important work. Perhaps you have had to fight off resentment too, self-pity, and discontent in your vocation. I can’t encourage you, or myself even, from a far-off perspective that assures that the small things do indeed add up. I am standing in the midst of it right now too. I can only share with you that which I cling to that I may do the work of my small days with joy and gladness: 

“One who is faithful in a very little is also faithful in much, and one who is dishonest in a very little is also dishonest in much. If then you have not been faithful in the unrighteous wealth, who will entrust to you the true riches? And if you have not been faithful in that which is another's, who will give you that which is your own?

Luke 16:10-12 

Our faithfulness in the small things is not for nothing. Especially when we work unto the Lord–with a desire to honor him above all else. 

May this be the day that we see the great dignity in the small work of our hands.