On being small

Today I feel small.

That’s not just a reference to my vertically challenged frame (4′ 11″, because I know you’re wondering!) but a feeling that comes from deep down within me. I know my life is a small one. I often have days where I’m on my own until David gets back in the evening. I’m not particularly active on social media. I can count on one hand the number of people who know me very well. I know all that every day, but some days the knowing and the feeling come together almost tangibly and I marvel at the magnitude of ants.

Right now I sit here curled up in my armchair with blankets around me. My rising temperature warns me that in yet another round of Ruth vs Bacteria, my body is losing. My weakness is obvious and painful. I can’t even win against an organism I can’t even see.

And yet a glance up from my armchair reassures me. God’s got his paintbrush out and the sky is a plethora of colours. Orange! Pink! Purple! Grey! Not even a pentachromat could tell you all the colours. The God who streaks the sky with colour also makes Himself known in smaller ways; a still, small voice, a dove. The God who is greater than my mind can begin to fathom cares about smaller things; the sparrows, the flowers, the hairs on our heads.

Small doesn’t equal bad.

Small doesn’t equal useless.

Small is a privileged place to be.

Small is a wonderful thing to feel.

Small sees myself in an accurate light and helps me see God as more mighty, more glorious, more loving.

Today I feel small and for that I am grateful.

One thought on “On being small

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