Friday, February 21, 2014
When You're Afraid Your Life Is Small
An offhanded comment was all it took. Something lighthearted and small about getting out more into that mythical "real world," far away from my popcorn strewn living room in the heart of the longest winter I can remember. At first I couldn't put my finger on it, why my heart sunk, my defensiveness bubbled up. Why I felt like I'd been kicked right in the center of the chest.
It doesn't take much force for a nerve to spasm when it's been hit. I had no idea this was such a sore spot for me until that moment. The excuses kept coming, reasons why not. I worked it out in housework and finally cleared enough air to see what the issue was. The comment made me feel like my life was small. Worse than that, that it was a waste. Day after day being cooped up - that wording doesn't feel right, doesn't speak to what I feel homelife really is. Yes, even on the hardest days.
We live in an interesting time. A time where we tell our children they can be whatever it is they want to be, a time where success is measured by making something of yourself in some tangible way. We tell ourselves fame and fortune don't matter, but then live lives that say the exact opposite. We struggle and strive to be known, to be celebrated, to be appreciated, to be respected. We crave the spotlight, something bigger and better.
My kids and I read the bible story of the great general Naaman being healed of leprosy...an event set into motion by a little slave girl who had been kidnapped during a conflict and brought into his home. As I read to my kids, she's there in the back of my mind. Nameless, in this story...yet the key to something bigger. Important? Yes! Celebrated? Hardly. Was her life small? Undoubtedly. We don't know what happened to her after that...likely nothing spectacular. But even the smallest of lives, steeped in the mundane, has the potential to be used by God to pave the way for a miracle.
My life is small. In the center of a tiny house, my time spent mostly on the daily needs of 7 other people. Nothing spectacular, nothing particularly praiseworthy. My life is small but not unimportant. Even if I don't get out into the real world or talk to anyone older than 10 day in and day out. Being in the center of where I'm called to be, I can trust that He's got me where He wants me - and although it may be hard to see, each life on this earth breathes His name.
Not everyone is meant for the history books. Not me, I know this. Likely not my children. But we're all meant for His story book. And that, right there, is good enough for me.
If you enjoyed this post, please consider leaving a comment or subscribing to future posts. Thank you.