Twelve months ago, I brought a refugee woman (who’s since become a friend) to the hospital for the birth of her baby. It was special. Monumental. To be there for her at such an important time. To watch her other children so that her husband could meet his new son. To spend hours upon hours helping at their house because no grandparents, or aunts, or friends live this side of the Atlantic.
On Saturday, we visited for the celebration of this baby’s first birthday. This time, I wasn’t swooping in to help in a time of need. I was simply the recipient of their generous hospitality.
But there was one insignificant, inconsequential, unimportant way to help. The father wanted to decorate, and due to a bullet wound he suffered as a civilian in his home country, it is physically too painful for him to blow up balloons. So he dropped a handful into my lap and asked for help.
It served as a fresh reminder that most ministry happens in little moments.
It’s not always significant or exciting or life-changing. Because that’s not the way of Jesus. Sure, He brought dead people back to life and healed illnesses and cast out demons and—in His most monumental act of all—made a way of salvation. But He also washed the feet of his friends. He prayed for others in the quiet. He spoke tenderly to weeping women.
Most of His life wasn’t even spent in formal ministry, but living as a humble servant in unknown and unseen ways. Helping His mother. Comforting His neighbor. Befriending the lonely. Playing with children. Thousands of actions left unwritten and unspoken, but fully known by His father and a blessing to the unknown people He served.
It’s easy to get enamored with the big and significant things and undermine the importance of the small.
But we will miss out on living like Jesus if we assume that ministry is only found in the monumental. If the little things weren’t too small for Him, they should never be considered too small for us either.