When I saw the big, round, tub-belly of the washing machine in the middle of the kitchen floor, I knew things weren’t good.
I set my bag on the counter and walked to the washroom. The top half of my husband Lonny was inside the washer. There was grease on his Levis, and he wore work boots.
“Uh-oh,” I said. “Again?”
Lonny stood. His hair was wild, and his face was red.
“It’s the motor,” he said. “I have another broken one in the garage. Between the two, I can rebuild one to last until a new one arrives.”
Lonny spent the rest of Memorial Day pulling apart motors and rebuilding. Piece by piece. Then he graded Samuel’s algebra. Then he helped another son register for summer classes. I did the bedtime routine, unloaded the dishwasher and looked at lesson plans for the next day. Lonny and I take care of things. A million little services go into keeping the family afloat.
A friend of mine has had a lot going on, too. Her parents have been ill, and she and her husband are caring for them while they raise their own family. A plethora of life- details are showered each day on their loved ones. I watch and see something beautiful.
Servanthood is large when tasks are small.
When we serve others on a day-to-day, moment-to-moment basis, we’re loving with the love of Christ. Even when the tasks seem mundane, trivial or common. Like finding socks. Or packing lunches. Driving children. Running errands. Providing food. Providing care.
Small things hold value in the economy of God.
If I pause to consider this, numerous examples from Scripture come to mind:
- A small boy and the small lunch that fed the multitudes (John 6:9)
- A small amount of oil and flour that didn’t run out (I Kings 17:16)
- Faith small as a mustard seed (Matthew 17:20)
- A small man who climbed a tree to see Jesus (Luke 19:4)
- A boy with a slingshot and a small stone (I Samuel 17:49)
- A small girl raised from the dead (Luke 8:54)
- A small babe sent to save us. (Matthew 1:21)
In the Word, the small is significant.
Lonny worked hard that night, prodding the motor along. At the end of the evening, we listened to the working washer chug and whir.
It was the sound of serving others and pleasing God.
