Why Faithfulness in the Little Things is a Big Deal

We've all heard the classic words: "He who is faithful with little will be faithful with much." I cannot count the number of times that I was told to be a "good little boy" in my youth, so I could grow to be a successful adult. It was this mindset that caused me to view life as a staircase, with each step leading me to the "much" that I can be faithful with. I always wondered when it would be my turn to be faithful with much because the little things weren't satisfying my desire to prove just how faithful I could be. 

We can all agree that the abundance of our choices seem small, with a few exceptionally big decisions scattered throughout our time here like speckles on a Dalmatian puppy. It's easy to believe that these small rungs should gradually be replaced by bigger steps in each category of life: work, family, friendships, education, et cetera. We are programmed to "climb the ladder" from an early age. While it is certainly true that some life-altering decisions, such as whom to marry, when to have kids, and whether or not to take an available promotion will likely affect the ultimate outcomes of our lives more than the brand of coffee we drink in the mornings, it's not these decisions alone that comprise the essence of life. 

The danger of the "climb-the-ladder" mentality is that it sets us up to be stagnant, complacent, or even frustrated when we aren't being faced by decisions with greater ripple effects. We can easily develop a constant need to prove ourselves and be approved. The 9 to 5 can get boring. The student's desk and class lectures can grow unbearably dull. The nightly family dinner conversations can become overfamiliar and monotonous. We begin to view these daily routines and seemingly minor decisions as mere steppingstones to the next "much"-level challenge. 

Why is this dangerous? Because it devalues these little things in our eyes. The fact that something is small doesn’t make it unimportant. 

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I have often felt like the bulk of my life is a series of insignificant events, and it can cause me to live from big decision to big decision, instead of simply being content and focused on being the best I can be where I'm at. It short-circuits my daily effectiveness and can even foster arrogance and/or lethargy when approaching the day-to-day demands of life.

It's important to recognize two things: First - We are not too important for the small things. Second - The small things are too important to do half-heartedly. 

Think of it this way. If I could string together each and every small choice in life and create one huge patchwork quilt, representing just one decision, the importance of that one decision would probably far outweigh the importance of every big decision put together because the ratio of small decisions to big decisions is huge. Each and every day is important because (excuse the cliché) we truly don't know how many days we have. And a human life is one extraordinarily large "much" to be faithful with. 

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Faithfulness is not contingent upon the size of the object, but the character of the subject. It is a condition of the heart and mind. If I am a faithful person, I'll be as faithful in any size task because I won't view the size of my situation as the fulcrum upon which my character is resting. If I am a flaky person, I'll be just as flaky in my largest endeavors as I am in my smallest concerns because my very nature is one that lacks commitment and perseverance. 

A faithful person is a faithful person because he or she has prioritized faithfulness, not because a certain situation demands faithfulness more than another. If I allow a certain situation to demand a greater level of integrity than another, then I have forfeited control of my character to external circumstances, which is a terribly confining and destructive way to live. I and I alone have control over the kind of person I am, and if I allow the kind of person I am to change from decision to decision, then I will be unstable and unhappy. If I don't establish the kind of person I will be before I approach each and every decision, then the outcome of my decisions will establish my character for me. 

Of course, this is not to say that we should stretch ourselves thin, trying to do everything. We should prioritize where we spend our time and efforts. But we should do everything we choose to do with a good heart, a resolute mind, and a positive attitude. If we can't devote those attributes to whatever it is we are doing, the action should probably not be done.

3 Ways My Faith Has Changed in the Past Year

While reading a blog post from a much more accomplished writer than myself, I was inspired to take a shot at answering the question he issued at the end of the piece: "How has your faith changed in the last ten years?" Being the ripe old age of nineteen, I am going to edit the question a bit and answer this one instead: "How has your faith changed in the last year?" I feel this question is more appropriate and applicable to my current place in the progression of life. 

The nature of a question like this is so broad that it is practically impossible to answer in its fullness, considering the reasonable amount of characters allotted in a blog post and the likely brief amount of time I possess readers' attention. So, I am going to stick to three major things that have changed about my faith in the past year. These are not theological in nature as much as they are relational, which, as Don Miller points out in the aforementioned blog post, is how it should be. 

So, here we go.

1. I've stopped questioning whether or not I'm hearing God's voice all the time. 

Jesus spends the greater portion of John chapter 10 talking about the nature of His relationship with those who believe in Him. He is the Shepherd, and we are His sheep. In verse 27, He makes it clear, "My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me." It's that simple. Half the time, I think we override the easily-identifiable, inner voice of our Good Shepherd with our constant bleating. Our fear of missing His voice is so loud and so constant in our minds that it drowns out His voice. 

A man I respect very much once told me that, while humans must resort to symbols, gestures, and sounds to communicate, our omnipotent God can bypass those limiting channels of communication and speak directly to our minds, indeed our hearts. The closer we grow to Him through the simple act of choosing to spend time with Him, the more we learn to recognize when those transcendent thoughts that pop into our heads are not flowing from our meager intellects, but the voice of our truly brilliant Creator, speaking in a way that is relatable and unique to each one of us. 

The more of the Scriptures I commit to memory, both concepts and word-for-word quotations, the easier it is to identify the kinds of things God speaks. When you know what someone's voice sounds like, you can embrace the content of what is being spoken without fear. I am not advocating a prayer-less life. I am, in fact, encouraging a constant flow of prayerful communication with the Lord. Don't believe the lie that we leave Him by our bedsides in the morning. He is with us, and He speaks to us. 

2. I quit doing "devotions." 

For this to make sense, one has to look at the definition for this often-misunderstood word. Devotion is defined as, "love, loyalty, or enthusiasm for a person, activity, or cause." This understanding of such a powerful word indicates that we cannot do devotion as much as we can live devoted. I realized that time with anyone I love is expected and understood to be an obvious part cultivating relationship. Things like scheduled "prayer time," Scripture reading, and internalizing wise biblical teaching are excellent and contribute to our growth in knowledge of God, which Colossians makes clear is vital to living "a life worthy of the Lord," but these acts in themselves are not the essence of devotion. Devotion is a state of being, not a mere act of doing. 

I wish I could quote the entire body of Scripture word-for-word, but even if I could, it would not mean my heart is truly devoted in complete loyalty to my Lord anymore than being able to quote every T.S. Eliot poem would mean I am Eliot's faithful manservant. I believe, true devotion reveals itself in what some would consider subtleties. Things like peaceful countenance, acts of obedience, high levels of patience, and, most evidently, the Fruit of the Spirit are the essence of devotion in human lives.

My devotion to God is as much about my love for His people as it is about my love for Him. It is imperative that I cherish His people as the treasures that they are and encourage them with the highest levels of enthusiasm I can muster. God cares about His sheep, and His love for me is just as infinite and baffling for the person sitting next to me right now. By acting with compassion and grace toward my fellowman, I am showing more devotion to God than I ever could by reading a fifteen-minute "devotional." By all means, read the books and learn and grow, but understand that devotion is found in the heart of a person, not the rituals of his or her mornings and evenings. This understanding has become foundational to my faith. 

3. I learned the difference between wanting to know God's plan and wanting to know God. 

This is one of the most important things I have learned thus far. For so long, I had my life plan etched into the recesses of my mind. I so desperately wanted to know what God thought of my plans, which got my asking about His plans, which made me think I could somehow reconcile the two. Now I understand that God's plans are His own to reveal if and when He chooses to do so. They WILL come to pass in spite of myself, and I can either get on board and ride the train smoothly or spend my life tied by the wrist to the caboose and running just to keep up. 

I have come to terms with the fact that I could lay my head to rest tonight in a completely different situation than I was in when I woke up this morning. And that's okay. In fact, it's much more interesting. I firmly believe we can make idols out of God's plan. He asks that we seek Him and simply follow as He lights up the path we are to take. If I were to already know the exact direction I should be walking in, why would His light be necessary? His purposeful concealment of big-picture, divine understanding from us is for our good. It is designed to lead us into a deeper relationship with this all-knowing Messiah we are walking with, and it keeps us reliant upon His peace that is much more satisfying to our souls than understanding. Not knowing exactly where I am headed keeps me from attempting to run ahead. Jesus is more interested in getting to know each other on the journey than He is in me simply getting to the destination. If I got to the destination without the molding process of the journey, I would not be a person worthy to enter the destination. 

We don't even have the mental capacity to process all of the infinite variables that God sees in His absolute sovereignty. But that's just it, if God is absolutely sovereign over all things, and we are held tightly in His grasp, why would we have anything in our hearts but absolute trust? It's more fun to trust God and get to know Him than it would be to know His plan for this earthly life. Besides, our ultimate goal is the same, right? We only have a handful of decades down here anyway. 



Faith evolves, and I am in the midst of constant, beautiful changes that lead me closer to the God I hope to someday love with all my heart, soul, mind, and strength in practice, not simply in theory. These are just a few of the ways I have observed these changes happening in my own life. In the spirit of this piece's inspiration, I will conclude with a question: How as your faith changed over the past (insert span of time here)? 



A special thanks goes out to Donald Miller and Scott Wilson, whose work and teaching have inspired the content of this article.