Small things

Last week the Preschooler and I were in the car on our way to pick the older two up from school, and I found myself singing along to a catchy echoing song with these lyrics:

Oh, I know a chicken (I know a chicken)
And she laid an egg (And she laid an egg)
Oh, I know a chicken (I know a chicken)
And she laid an egg (And she laid an egg)
Oh my goodness (Oh my goodness)
It’s a shaky egg! (It’s a shaky egg!)

Naturally the Preschooler loves this song. But, about halfway through the song it struck me how ridiculous it is that I also know and sing along to these lyrics with ease.

I’ve written about this before, but I keep this Helen Keller quote on my computer desk:

I long to accomplish great and noble tasks, but it is my chief duty to accomplish humble tasks as though they were great and noble. The world is moved along, not only by the mighty shoves of its heroes, but also by the aggregate of the tiny pushes of each honest worker. 

I don’t feel like knowing all the words to “I Know a Chicken” is putting anyone on a trajectory toward many great and noble tasks. As the girls are getting older, maybe I need to know a headhunter or a life coach more than I need to “know a chicken.” But, being present in the moment and doing the little tasks in front of me well today is something I struggle with every season.

Like anyone with young children, a lot of my time is spent doing the same things over and over: carpool lines, laundry, snacks, dishes, dog-walking, checking homework, dinners, cleaning up, more laundry, etc. Many times I find myself thinking my responsibilities are getting in the way of the “great and noble tasks” I should and would be accomplishing otherwise. I’m not sure who I think I am. I don’t know what specific greatness or success I think I would be achieving if I had the freedom to pursue every dream or goal I’ve ever imagined, but one doesn’t have to look much further than Instagram to feel like we might be missing out on an opportunity to do something significant or exciting or to dramatically impact the world around us. What am I doing with my education? How am I using my gifts? Where am I serving in our church? What am I doing to add value or beauty to my community?

I don’t have solid answers to those questions.

I get frustrated with everydayness, with what feels like a general lack of productivity or forward momentum. And, I get discouraged by my failures to be and do what this season requires with grace and gentleness. I’m not naturally good at being an “at home” mom. I don’t cook well. I’m not a great nurturer. I complain too much. I yell at the girls a lot. Too many days we’re not thriving over here; we’re just surviving.

Not too long ago I read about a lesser known verse in the Bible that I’m trying to let sink into my thought patterns about what really matters at the end of the day. The context of the verse is that God was having the remnant people of Judah rebuild the temple. Knowing they would likely become discouraged with the hard monotony of laying bricks for the foundation day after day without being able to see the significance of the end result, he says through the prophet Zechariah:

Who despises the day of small things… {Zec. 4:10a}

I’ll confess that I’m a despiser of the small things. I like tangible results. Action. Adventure. Big picture goals. I need to see the three-dimensional rendering of the finished temple before I can become interested in laying its boring foundation. I mean, where is this story headed? I’m impatient and annoyed with small things.

Last week the Preschooler and I went to lunch together. These outings don’t always go well, so I try to pack entertainment. And, on this day she drew a picture for me while we were waiting on our food.

She’s thrilled that she’s learned to draw mermaids. She’s most proud of the coconut bikini top and the belly button. Personally, I like the floral hands the best.

At the end of the day that picture is nothing more than a little bit of ink on the page of a notebook. But, if the small things really matter, maybe giving a 4-year old the time and space to learn to draw something big in her world and discussing that drawing with her was the most important thing I did all day? What if yesterday, when my 9-year-old anxiously told a story in the car on the way home from school about an injury someone incurred on the playground, was simultaneously one of the most ordinary and significant parts of my day?

What if it’s the tiniest little tasks that we all do — smiles we offer, attention we give, encouragement we dole out — that somehow eventually come together to make a difference and be the very thing that impacts the world around us? Tiny pushes. Days, weeks, even years of small things. Maybe doing them with the right spirit is the only “great and noble” call I need to embrace. I may not have much of anything tangible to show for a lot of my days at the end of them, but I do have a picture of a mermaid. And, also…

I know a chicken.