This morning, I watch the sun fall slow over the patchwork of leaves in the back yard. It has become my Saturday morning discipline—pressing my forehead up against the window to see what I can see; the house still sleeping but the world waking up and my heart beating wild at its invitation.
Yesterday, I was to have an interview about Playdates with God. So I re-read the book, took notes from parts I thought I would be asked about. I put post-its with quick descriptors on appropriate pages. I had my Bible handy with special scriptures marked. I walked the dog and closed the curtains and took my laptop and all my resources up into my bedroom and closed the door, lest someone come knocking. And an hour and a half after the scheduled appointment my publicist finally called to tell me there had been a miscommunication. We would have to reschedule.
I tried to be gracious, but I admit, there were tears.
I texted my husband, “So the interview is being rescheduled again (this was the second time). Feeling insignificant and looked over.”
I went for a run to try to shake that feeling of insignificance and, as often it does, things fell into place as my feet pounded the ground. God wants me to remember this feeling of small. Not because I am insignificant, but because we are all significant. And it is in the small that I can see the bigger things—the things that matter most.
… the word ‘humble’ can literally mean ‘not rising far from the ground … ~Phil Steer, As a Child: God’s Call to Littleness
This morning, I take my camera out into the back yard and lay on my belly on a bed of dew-covered leaves to capture the morning light. My pajamas are soaked through to the skin and under the blue sky I feel so small. Like a child, held in her Daddy’s arms.
And I’ve never felt so treasured—so significant—in all my days.