The Bible is full of evidence that God’s attention is indeed fixed on the little things. But this is not because God is a great cosmic cop, eager to catch us in minor transgressions, but simply because God loves us–loves us so much that we the divine presence is revealed even in the meaningless workings of daily life. It is in the ordinary, the here-and-now, that God asks us to recognize that the creation is indeed refreshed like dew-laden grass that is “renewed in the morning” or to put it in more personal and also theological terms, “our inner nature is being renewed everyday”. Seen in this light, what strikes many modern readers as the ludicrous details in Leviticus involving God in the minutiae of daily life might be reenvisioned as the very love of God. – Kathleen Norris
I’m in love with the absolute dailiness of life at this moment. I’m enthralled by the way my I feel accomplished putting away clean dishes and cleaning out cat litter. 30 minutes digging lime-green shocks of grass from around my lettuce makes me feel like I’m looking out from a mountain vista.
There is so much to be said for not being busy. When I have too much to do – when I have over-committed myself – these tasks become chores, weights that hang from my shoulders and bind up my chest. But when I have work but not too much, I take joy in them done and done well.
I wonder how many times I will have to learn this lesson.
I wonder if I will ever let myself settle into the daily life of writing and farm. I wonder if I will ever believe it to be enough.
Soon here at God’s Whisper, we will have chickens and then goats and then, in time, alpacas. These creatures will require daily care – twice daily in fact – and so I will be bound more fully to the daily, to the work of one cycle. I am both thrilled with this grounding and terrified by it.
The fear, though, the fear comes from those voices – mine and those that talk about “do more than you ever imagined you could do” and “more is better” – the voices of advertising that tempt and lure. They speak to the place at the back of my throat that makes me feel I must shout my voice into every situation. They are liars.
Truth comes when I give into the life I have dreamed, the one that feels most real, where I can sit – as I have done today – and watch the shadowy reflection of a hummingbird on the wall beside my desk. Truth comes in the peace that settles over me when I finally give in to what must be done and write rather than think I need ‘something’ to say before I even sit down. Truth comes in the grace of a Roma tomato already taking oblong shape in the cage P and I formed from recycled fencing.
Truth comes, joy-laden, in the daily most often. In the giving in to the limitations of my human existence. In the submission to the grace that says enough really is more than enough.
The daily grace is so much more than ever I’ll need.
What in your daily life gives you joy? What robs that joy from you?