My Very Little, or How I Managed Not To Kill People With My Flaky Chaos

I am a chronic over-achiever, stuck in a chronically sick, chronically lazy body.

I dream big.

And then I sleep in, eat a bowl of ice cream, and spend my nights watching "Murder She Wrote" instead of pursuing any grander venture.

I call it creative and vibrant.

In reality, I'm a little flaky. And a sluggard.

Several weeks ago, as I was battling my intense urge to "do something big" (these urges include adoption, counseling certification, fund raising, publishing books, and losing 139 pounds in 2 days), I received a still, small nudge.

Just be faithful.

I'M GOING TO CONQUER THE NEW YORK MARATHON! I'M GOING TO ADOPT FIVE KENYAN KIDS!

Just be faithful.

I'M GOING TO PUBLISH THREE BOOKS THIS YEAR! I'M GOING TO CHANGE THE FACE OF TRAUMA COUNSELING WITH CHILDREN! I'M GOING TO APPEAR ON "THE VIEW" AND WIN ALL THOSE WOMEN TO CHRIST!

Just be faithful.

BUT... BUT... I WANT TO DO SOMETHING! SOMETHING BIG!

Just be faithful.

So, with a sigh, and just to see what would happen, I put down my striving. I walked away from this blog, from my artistic endeavors, and from my attempts at beginning my own small business. I walked away from my dreams... and I found dreams that God had created.

I kept my house clean. The laundry didn't fall behind. I hosted Easter and made my second-ever ham. I poured into my children. I wrestled with my tiny demons of laziness and Netflix; tiny demons which controlled so much. I exercised. I meal planned.

And the little voice kept nudging.

On hard days, when I just wanted to collapse into bed with my broken, tired body, the little nudge (which I think we can now call "the Holy Spirit") would tell me, "Just be faithful with the next thing. Don't look at the big picture. Just be faithful with the next thing." So, I would take a deep breath and dice some carrots for dinner. I would be patient while disciplining (for the same sin, on the same day, for the sixth time). I would put on mascara and kiss my hubby with passion when he came home. When my head was hurting, I would still clean out the sink and laugh at my two-year old's silly dance. And I would whisper to myself,

"Just be faithful."

And a glorious thing began to happen. Peace flooded my life. Joy filled up my days. My to-do list got shorter, more manageable, and I began to look upon it as a PRIVILEGE.

An old Sunday school verse came back into play: "One who is faithful in a very little..."

I'm living in my "very little."

Sure, I still have dreams of "being faithful in much," but I recognize now that it was God's grace to me (and all others I might have bumped into with my flaky chaos), that I wasn't given more.

And so, I'm slowly adding things to my "just faithful" list.

And enjoying the privilege of being given "very little."

Because, honestly, I can't handle much more.




(and everyone who knows me nods enthusiastically...)