I struggle with the idea of being small.
Without realizing it, somewhere along the way being small began to mean being invisible, unseen, and unknown.
As someone who longs to be fully known and yet still fully loved, smallness seemed like a punishment and something to avoid at all costs. In middle and high school I volunteered and served, led and encouraged. I was the first to sign up for mission trips and in more than one play I was handed the role of the “good girl.” Truthfully, I was simply portraying an extreme version of my actual life. I did the right things and acted the right way and yes, I did have good intentions.
But deep inside I hoped that my life would bring God glory and also gain just a little bit of your attention. After walking a road that included brain surgery and many years of hurts from the Body of Christ, I so badly wanted to be seen — and still loved. Small didn’t seem like an option.
You can probably guess what came next. I went off to college and became incredibly involved, stretching myself thin and wearing myself out. Once again, I was doing a bunch of great stuff with good intentions but always with the hope that someone would see me, love me, and stick around.
Over the past two years, God has been leading me into another chapter of the story. This one is hard, but it is good. I’m finding that people are more important than projects and relationships matter more than results. Names are always more valuable than numbers.
He was teaching me and I was listening but to be honest, I didn’t know what it would look like, practically speaking, to get small. But then I went to Haiti and I saw the night sky painted velvet black, filled with thousands of stars flickering in the night – and I got it. Right then and right there with dirt in between my toes, He whispered quietly that I was so very small and yet so very seen.
In light of Who He is, we are small. But because He is within us and with us, we are so far from small. The God of the Universe is within us, walking daily in our very ordinary and mundane. We are small and we are seen. Somewhere in between the dirt streets of Haiti and the lit streets of Birmingham He taught me that small is a present, not a punishment.
I’m honored to be sharing a piece of my story for Testimony Tuesday. Continue reading at Holly’s blog…