There’s an Alan Jackson song that features these lyrics:
“Well, it’s alright to be little bitty
A little hometown or big old city
Might as well share, might as well smile 🎼
Life goes on for a little bitty while”
When I was a kid, I enjoyed the tune but found the lyrics to be atrocious.
I wasn’t going to be small. I was going to break out of Arkansas and become a best selling author who lived somewhere grand, maybe NYC.
God had other plans. Thankfully.
I’m understanding the value of small. Of how little moments measure up to be so much more than a big house, fast car, a little nip here, a little tuck there. Those things aren’t inherently evil. But when we make them idols, they take on a whole new life, or better yet, an entity that’s absolutely devoid of it.
Christ knew the value of small. He worked with only twelve disciples who all had their faults, not a million subscribers patting him on the back. He valued getting close to people, truly knowing them, and allowing them to reveal their hearts.
He worked against the idea of Babel, the insidiousness that infiltrates when people put more stock in themselves than in the absolute sovereignty of God.
Christ knew the value of a mustard seed. Of how the greatest things come from the tiniest of truths.