Sarah Westfall writes this:
“The liturgy of the little things is an intentional, daily practice of paying attention to the goodness of God that is already around us.”
The right here, right now.
It’s being where our feet are.
Noticing immense beauty in the mundane minutes, the gritty patterns of our Thursdays or our Fridays.
Today, the goodness of God all around me looks like thin plastic bags, Walmart scrawled across the side, filled with a jumble of chicken and frozen cauliflower and corn, heavy whipping cream, and fresh blueberries. Honeycrisp apples, a loaf of Sara Lee, and a bag of fun size Snickers.
And there’s grace abundant spilling as I navigate into a grocery pickup parking spot, tap the app to announce “I’m here!”
In a few minutes, less than five, the side door opens and a Walmart employee, blue vest in place begins pulling my delivery toward my waiting Yukon. And I push a button and my back door opens in automatic slow motion.
My good farmer’s riding shotgun, as the saying goes. He alights, lends a helping hand to the grocery transfer.
“Thank you so much,” I say to the good employee providing my service. “I really appreciate it.”
And my good farmer man is sorting out the groceries for me at the open back door. He places milk and frozen bags of various foods into my brightly striped insulated bag.
I lift my phone. Capture the frame. Notice these moments. I’m immensely grateful for them.
Ordinary? Yes, very.
Grocery pickup? A gift saving my life this year.
He zips the bag. The door starts its slow descent. I quickly tap a text reply to my sister while he climbs aboard again.
And then, we’re off.
I navigate to our nearby coffee shop. We greet the barista, our cousin’s daughter, order dirty chais with whip, pull out our coffee punch card.
In small-town coffee shop fashion, a few friends and neighbors we know are here too.
We say hello, share hugs, chat a minute.
Our chais arrive and we find an empty couch.
Sit. Sip. Savor.
It’s a pause to be where our feet are.
To pay attention to the goodness abundant.
For in the gritty Thursdays and Fridays, let’s face it.
Life is hard. No question.
Dreams die or disappoint.
Relationships require investment, attention, repair. Money holds us captive in a multitude of ways. Frustration is too often our companion. Decisions hover. Chronic illness attacks.
And I find myself frowning, complaining, letting cynicism and bitterness lead.
This.
This is why the Liturgy of the Little Things matters.
A daily practice of paying attention to the goodness of God sands the edges of my cynicism, leads me into the daily habit of delight.
Giving gratitude for His goodness, dissolves the boil of bitterness and brings me near unto the still small voice of God.
