Small Things

 

Two people-carrier cars, packed with bags of dirty, wet (from a water-fight) clothes, tired children and even more tired parents, pulled away from the house, at the end of a gift of a weekend. The sun shone on our BBQ – always a cause for celebration in Scotland. The usually-quiet home resounded with laughter as most of our family – notably missing those now in Australia – gathered together for the annual summer birthdays BBQ.

Pure joy.

Putting the children’s rolling stock back in the garage, Don discovered a critical black plastic bolt missing from the seat of the go-kart. He’d been down the drive looking but couldn’t find it.

Now all day, Tony’s message at church had resonated in my mind: Unable to find drinking water in the wilderness, the children of Israel had forgotten that God parted the waters of a mighty river to save them from their pursuers just three days earlier. They forgot about his love, his care, and his supernatural abilities, and griped and groaned about their lack. Instead of asking, they complained.

That sounds familiar. I’d left church, resolving to remember God’s goodness and with his help, to stop complaining.

So, with that in mind, I headed down the drive, eyes focused on the grass verge. I asked God to help me see the missing bolt. An old chorus popped into my mind: ‘Open my eyes, Lord’. I sang it out – just those words – and there it was! As instantly as that. The little black plastic bolt lay there in full sight.

He is the God who delights in helping his children with the small things as well as the big. May I put all my trust in him today, as I prepare for Mom’s centenary birthday party.