“Hmmm. . .” I played along, tapping my fingertip on my chin. “This one.” I pointed to her left arm.
“Yes!” She swung her fist around and opened her palm. Nestled in the crook of her hand sat two tiny yellow flowers, each just millimeters wide but perfectly formed and detailed—delicate saffron petals with green stems like trailing embroidery threads. She turned her wrist and emptied the flowers into my hand.
“Sweetheart, these are beautiful!”
“They’re for you, Momma! I found them outside. I love you! Bye bye!” And off she ran, back to her toys and grassy yard adventures. I sat in my office chair studying those dainty gifts, so small and ordinary and yet—they might as well have been diamond earrings, precious as they were to me.
Sometimes the little gifts mean the most.
I need to remember that.
On the days when I feel like I have nothing to offer God. When my floor sweeping and lunch packing and smiley-face toast making seems pathetic compared to grander pursuits. I mean, I’m not building an orphanage in Haiti. I’m not writing the next revolutionary book or praise song (yet). I’m not giving millions to world outreach. Heck, I’m not even making the money that pays for the Cheerios in my daughter’s breakfast bowl.
I’m just being a mom. Getting up every day and praying that God will help me to honor him with the way I treat my family. Putting one foot ahead of the other, one breath after the last, wiping those bottoms and cutting those crusts and texting “I love you” to my husband.
I am so very small and ordinary.
But to God, I am enormously special.
And so are you.
“He has saved us and called us to a holy life—not because of anything we have done but because of his own purpose and grace. This grace was given us in Christ Jesus before the beginning of time,” (2 Timothy 1:9).
Wow. Think about that. God called us—he chose us (before time even began!)—to live . . . what? A mundane, nothing-to-offer life? No.
A holy life.
And not because we’ve done anything magnificent to prove ourselves. What we call ordinary—the carpooling, casserole-baking, homework-helping life—God calls purposeful. He calls it holy.
Yes, you’re a mom. And that means what you do matters. God sees it. He values it. He knows your heart and he gives you your blessings. Try counting them today, and see if you don’t start to agree that this small and ordinary life is holy indeed.
Later that day, my daughter pressed her hands against my cheeks and leaned in until our noses touched. “Momma? Did you love those flowers? The pretty ones from outside?”
“Oh yes, sweetheart. They are very special.”
“I just know you love them, Mom.”
“You do? How do you know?”
She patted my face with her palm and gazed straight into my eyes. “Because they’re from me.”
Ah. Sweet girl. She gets it.
* * * * * * * *
SPECIAL NOTE: Welcome to the new look! If you’ve been reading Time Out for a while, you’ll notice we got a face lift over the weekend. Many thanks to Laura at Pixel Me Designs for her fast and friendly design skills. Along with the new digs comes a new URL, which is now simply www.beckykopitzke.com. (No more BlogSpot . . . we’re on WordPress now!) If you’re a subscriber, posts will continue to come to your inbox as usual. If you happened to get a funny e-mail from me last weekend, my apologies; I’m still working out some kinks. Click here to pop over to the blog for a peek. And if you don’t subscribe by e-mail yet, now is the perfect time to do it. Just scroll up a bit and find that fancy “Subscribe” box on the right and enter your e-mail address. I’d love to count you among my subscriber friends.
And finally, thanks to everyone who shared last week’s post and entered to win a copy of Chicken Soup for the Soul: Devotional Stories for Wives. Winners by random drawing are: Janet (commented on the blog Sept. 16, 8:03 a.m.), and Heather Lipe. Ladies, please send me your mailing address to becky (at) beckykopitzke (dot) com, and I’ll ship that book out to you ASAP. Blessings to you all!