Little Things

Little Things
“When he was at table with them, he took the bread and blessed and broke it and gave it to them.  And their eyes were opened, and they recognized him. And he vanished from their sight.” -Luke 24:30-31

 It all started with an eyebrow pencil. I tried to sharpen it, but it kept breaking. I finally had limited success and was able to fill in my little bald spots. Then there were the groceries that got delivered the night before and were belatedly discovered on the front porch; they had to be dealt with. Then I couldn’t find the shirt I wanted. And so it went. The entertainment continued after I got to school. The button on my jeans fell apart, and I had to use a paper clip to deal with the situation. The whole day was that way, and I was glad when it was over. Nothing awful happened; there were no genuine catastrophes or cataclysmic events. It was just that whole “death by a thousand cuts” thing. It. Was. Exhausting.

As I was reliving this mini horror of a day, I thought about how many times I had said a little prayer for help. It was a lot. The older I get, the more inclined I become to just stop, breathe, and say, “Lord, help.” Praying over eyebrow pencils and pants may seem strange and even absurd to some of you. You’re welcome to that characterization. But I’m pretty sure that if nothing is too big for God, then nothing is too small, either. Honestly, it’s not as if God gets too busy to be bothered with us. I mean, I get that there are wars and famines and things, but God is big enough for all of it, isn’t He?

The Emmaus story is one of my favorite parts of Scripture. Here are these two guys, all sad about Jesus being dead, and He’s right there walking with them. For seven miles, they had no idea to whom they were speaking. He unfolded prophecy and Scripture for them, did the whole teaching thing that He did so often—and nothing. You know when they figured it out? When he broke bread. An ordinary, mundane, everyday event. And when they finally recognized Him, well…He disappeared. I don’t really get that part. I’m sure there are theologians who could explain it, but I’m not one, so I won’t try.

All I know is, Jesus shows up a lot in the regular stuff. He is there when we lie down and when we wake up. He knows how many hairs we have on our heads. So, I’m pretty sure he knows when we brush our teeth and drink our protein shakes and whatever. He’s also probably highly aware of when we do things like misplace our cellphones or forget to start the washer.

Let’s face it: as hard as life can sometimes be, it’s rarely truly tragic. Of course, awful things happen. I am keenly aware of that fact. But not all the time. Most days, it’s just malfunctioning eyebrow pencils and paper-clipped pants—or whatever your version is of that. When those true catastrophes happen, God tends to show up in big and unmistakable ways. But all those other times? The keys and the parking spaces and the wardrobe malfunctions? He’s there, too. We just sometimes forget to notice.

So, as you go about your days this week, keep your eyes open. You never know when you might meet Jesus in your living room, or at your office—or at the table.

Peace.