The little things

The hum of my laptop reverberates the walls of my room. Though all I do is sit in the same shrimp-like position staring at the computer all day, my mind is frantically running around, trying to pay attention to all the back-to-back classes then prepare for one meeting after another in the evening. Ten minutes before leading the first of my many meetings of the night, I decide to step outdoors and clear my mind, to breathe some air outside the same circulating volume in my room and maybe treat myself to a nice dinner. As I run from my dorm to Sweetgreen, my initial shiver from the wind is quickly replaced by warmth from the sunlight. Listening to my feet beat the ground to the lively rhythm of bird song, I soak in every sensation of the natural world God intricately crafted together for me to experience in this brief moment in time. Thank you, Jesus, for this beautiful weather. 

I arrive at the restaurant dreading a long line for a salad, but there’s only one person in front of me. Thank you, Jesus, for the short line. 

I order my go-to Super Green Goddess salad. Ready to retrieve the goods, pay the bill, then rush back to make it in time for my Zoom meeting, I watch my salad crawl down the conveyor belt of servers when the salad halts in place, right behind the salad of the man in front of me. The customer explains that he is vegan and wants to know the ingredients of each sauce, dressing, and condiment before selecting it for his bowl. His slow, monotonous voice barely travels through the glass between his finger and the food at which he gestures. 

The clock is ticking, I need to run back to my computer. Oh crap, I think I forgot my credit card… 

Luckily, my mask covers my pursed, frowning lips but it’s hard to hide my ruffled brows. Jesus, give me patience.

My earbuds blast with music as if they could keep me distracted, but seconds feel like minutes as I gaze with longing at my salad. Suddenly, one of the workers grabs it and hands it to me.

She catches my attention with serious eyes. I only see her lips move; I think I misheard her.

I ask in a confused voice, “What?”

“Take it! It’s on us!”

My hesitant hands grab the salad, and I slowly walk towards the door. It feels like I’ve gotten away with something. I look back to see if anyone is going to stop me: servers rush around, customers order, the vegan man hunches over the same area of glass. All that is different is that the line is longer now. So I leave.

Back in the room with the salad in front of me, I sit up straight, ready for the Penn Epistle meeting with minutes to spare. Thank you, Jesus.


Maybe I am still a child, or maybe He knows that I am subject to the stereotype that food makes a girl happy. But God loves treating me, especially to free food. On the day I had three midterms and went to buy an ice cream sandwich, I was handed double what I asked for—and for free. When I dragged my sad self down Locust Walk after putting all my effort into resisting a splurge on baked sweets, I was stopped by a couple of people who handed me a warm Insomnia cookie (double chocolate chunk—my favorite flavor). Honestly, these moments are very small considering how long each day feels and the number of tasks I need to complete. It’s easy for these minutes to get lost and forgotten.

Still, it is these times and countless others when I feel such loving attention from God. And this past year, I have learned to not be in such a rush wherever I go and in whatever I do. I have started to pay attention to more little instances like these because He also cares about the little things. He takes care of the little things—little things like me. He strokes the sweet air we breathe and ushers stinging bees from our arms and stations Insomnia Cookies right in our line of vision. Even though I, and I’m sure many other Christians too, feel that God has a grand plan for each of us—which He does—He cares about our everyday lives as well. 

Through this journey, where I have stilled my heart and worked on taking things more slowly and noticing the details, life has become more exquisite and hopeful. I have begun to notice the fat squirrel gorged with nuts or the days when the skies are cloudless and endless, then think to myself, Thank you, Jesus, for the beauty around me.

“You make springs gush forth in the valleys; they flow between the hills; 
they give drink to every beast of the field; the wild donkeys quench their thirst. 
Beside them the birds of the heavens dwell; they sing among the branches. 
From your lofty abode you water the mountains; the earth is satisfied with the fruit of your work.”
– Psalm 104:10-13

There is no fear about having to wait in a long line to see Him. He is constantly present in our lives whenever and wherever we need Him. He works in His time, and all He asks is for us to call for Him, and He will answer one way or another. Thank you, Jesus, for the little wait. 

And because of these increasing interactions I have had with Him, He has encouraged and helped me to be more patient and compassionate. I am stronger than before. Thank you, Jesus, for helping me grow.

It’s the little things that contribute to my testimony. Sometimes I complain, wishing I had experienced some huge miracle that completely turned my life one-eighty in a matter of seconds. However, I realize that the everyday things in my life continue to contribute to my growth and story. And, thus, it is the little things I want, and urge you, to pay more attention to.

He paints the flowers so delicately, and He washes the sky so intentionally. In my most stressful and anxious states, I pause to remember the little things He does to show how He loves me. When I hit all the green lights on the road or bite into the perfect apple or listen to the elegant chirps of birds or He feeds me again, I like to pray thank you, Jesus.

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