when the small becomes the necessary


Lately, I’ve been noticing the small things.

Last Spring, I bought a birdbath – a little thing – that I’d wanted for a long, long time.

It sits now in our yard, like it’s home – like it’s always been there. It fits. I bought it to fill a space transformed over the years by an emptying nest. First it was filled by a wading pool, then a trampoline, next a fire pit, now Life had circled back around to a wading pool; this time for the birds. Seemed fitting, I suppose.

I bought it as a reminder of my mom, and her love of little things.

But the funny thing is, in essence, I bought it for decoration. Of course I hoped it would be useful, but I’m not sure I ever believed it would be. And the funnier thing is, the birds found it right away. And they used it right away, but not to bathe…to drink! Turns out this little birdbath thing was important after all.

My mom knew the importance of small things. Her life was a collage of them, and they made her who she was: a masterpiece. But most importantly, she was faithful in those little things. For her, small things weren’t “for the birds” at all. (And, yes, every last feather of that pun intended 🙂 )

When my mom died, many of those Small Things came knocking at the door.
“She was my second mom.”
“She was my only mom.”
“I’ll always remember her kitchen table. I always knew, when I walked through the door, we’d sit down there together with her homemade muffins and she’d say, ‘How was your day? Tell me about your day’…I always knew she’d ask. I always knew she wanted to know. I always knew she’d listen.”

And then came the smallest – largest – knock of all:

“All my life I was bullied and teased… your mom sent me a birthday card every year of my life. I can’t tell you how much …” And really, how could he measure the yield of an invested Life?

Measuring in at 4 ft 11 in. of bending, aging Life… it took Mom most of her life, to feel at home in her own skin. There were hard days and dark days, and days that dimmed her light. Yet she always found a way to rise up beyond the Night, plant her seeds, and tend to her little things.

Turns out they were the most important things…

the Small became the Necessary.

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Joining with Thought Provoking Thursdays, Five Minute Fridays, Tell His Story, Playdates with God


8 thoughts on “when the small becomes the necessary

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  1. Beautiful post, Jane. Your mom sounds like she was a very special person, used in big ways by God. It’s truly by His touch that the ordinary becomes extraordinary and the small things become big and meaningful. Somehow I think you’ll be blessed many times by your little bird bath!

  2. I am keeping my eyes open and praying that I will appreciate the small things. somedays I find my eyes are still on the empty nest and I feel lost – the small things seem not to be enough. I think maybe I need a birdbath:-)

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