It’s the little things. You start to notice the little things.
In light of my dad’s slow decline, time is both running out and being redeemed. Life is both fading and being renewed. This loss, gradual and subtle, is undeniably painful, but in the midst of the crumble, time expands and hope rushes in, again and again, opening my eyes to see the little things.
Laughter over a movie line I’ve repeated 100 times. Smiles from across the room. The wealth of love expressed in simple words and peaceful silence.
Dad’s pleasant humming and witty remarks ~ two of my favorite (little) things.
The tears that bring deeper healing than words. Yes, shared grief with my dad has become one of my cherished little things. Those moments break down the wall of “him” and “me” – I’m frustrated or he’s confused – and make precious room for us to grieve our loss together. Those moments remind me that I don’t always have to “keep it together” even for the one I’m caring for.
In the wake of death’s destruction, little things appear – passing moments of unexpected grace as well as memories so meaningful they are woven into the fabric of our lives. These (not so) little things are precious and sometimes hard to find, but they are worth gathering.
So worth gathering.
But not in a fearful response of scarcity. Dad’s disease has taken many things away from him and from our family, but in noticing the little things, I have become more aware of the abundance that still fills our lives. Abundance that comes from the heart and hand of my Heavenly Father and doesn’t need to be hoarded in fearful anxiety. I have the freedom to receive these little things, these abundant graces, with open and thankful hands. For He has promised to care for all my needs according to His riches in Christ Jesus. His provision and generosity magnify His goodness – even in the little things. (Phil. 4:19; James 1:17)
Whether these little things are pockets of hope or extravagant displays of goodness, they constantly remind me how loving, how caring … how near the Lord Jesus is.
He is not far away, and He is not unaware.
He sees, He cares, He knows.
Even in the face of loss, His goodness does not stay hidden. He does not stay hidden. Indeed, He has come near to us before. Praise to the One who came from Heaven to earth! Jesus Christ, fully God and fully man, came to redeem us and restore us to right relationship with our Heavenly Father. And by His precious Spirit, He lives in us.
Oh, He is not unaware. He is well acquainted with our grief, and our suffering is not foreign to Him. (Psalm 147:3; Isaiah 53:4)
Praise God from Whom all blessings flow.
It’s the little things. The time together, the laughter and jokes, the loving support of dear friends. They have a powerful way of lifting my eyes back to the One who knows and is near.
Surely, His goodness follows us and falls on our home like a summer rain, a holy covering. Surely His presence is with us, all the days of our lives.