Sometimes I wonder how well others see Jesus in me. When I’m going about my day, can they tell I’ve been with Him? Do they see Him in my smile? Do they hear Him in my tone? Is His presence recognizable in the choices I make, in the comments I leave, in the relationships I cultivate?
This past Valentine’s day, my seven-year-old was adamant about creating her own gifts for her classmates. She started two weeks in advance hand-crafting each small gift. Night after night, I watched her work with such intentionality and joy on her face. On each package was a drawing that depicted her classmate’s likes, hobbies, and/or favorite candy. I was astonished. At the end of her 2 week crafting session, she had 18 little thoughtful gifts—a box full of love.
With a husband and then a son who eat, sleep, and breathe sports, this book nerd girl quickly expanded her vocabulary to include all sorts of sports terminology. Like rebounds, buzzer beaters, first downs, birdies, dribbling (down the court and the field), and the still-baffling-to-me offside rule. But my favorite term by far is one that occurs more in backyard and pickup games than on any official playing field: the do-over.
I heard my phone ding. I looked down and saw the text was from my husband. My heart sank into my stomach. My hand shook as I tapped on the message. I listened as a song began to play. It’s going to take much more than promises this time.
As a writer and coach for other creatives, I’m often in conversations focused around art and creativity. One of my favorite books on creativity was written by Steven Pressfield. He wrote, “Creative work is not a selfish act or a bid for attention on the part of the actor. It’s a gift to the world and every being in it. Don’t cheat us of your contribution. Give us what you’ve got.”
A significant life is more simple than you think.
In these fifty-two devotionals, I explore the truth that every little thing you do can go a long way in God’s hands. Together, we’ll discover how partnering with God unlocks the eternal significance of the smallest act.