Sometimes It’s the Little Things

Sometimes the littlest things can make the biggest impact in life. A simple whisper can be stronger than the loudest shout; a light breeze can be more powerful than a gust of strong wind, and a simple smile can bring more joy than all the pleasures and gifts in the world. As I think back over this week, it’s the little moments that stand out to me – the little moments when God seems only a breath away, when you know He is right there, when the veil of the world separating you seems as thin as a tissue, and things just make sense. I don’t know whether I was just more attentive to those moments this week or whether there were more than normal, but the past few days have just been filled with those “little things,” those little moments of clarity and truth.

The school building we visited

We had the opportunity to go to Zirobwe this week, which I’m always pumped about. School is starting back up here, so our schedule has changed a little bit. We still do evening programs with the kids in Zirobwe’s trading center, but during the day on Thursday we had the opportunity to go to a primary school in the village. Sitting in a school that might be lucky to be considered a run-down shed back home was a humbling experience. The kids were learning, but it was in their second language (English), their classrooms were separated only by the hanging “chalkboard” (which we’re convinced is wood covered by a thin layer of….umm… Something??), their teachers at the time were in charge of more than one class, and honestly, there’s absolutely NO WAY it would even be considered a school in America. However, the students there are privileged; at least they have enough money for school fees. It’s mind-blowing to know that the main reason kids don’t go to school here is because they can’t afford school fees, which are only $25 to $30 per term for kids in the village. And I used to complain about going to school.

One of the houses in Zirobwe, similar to the one we visited

Another thing out of the norm that we got to do was walk to people’s houses for “evangelism.” It was amazing opportunity and experience that I can’t even begin to put into words. At the very first house my small team of four visited we met a man of 80 years and his 70 year old wife. Their daughter was there as well as some of their grandchildren and even great-grandchildren. God had definitely blessed them, but as this man revealed his story, I realized there was a lot more beneath the surface. As he unfolded his life story about moving to Uganda from Tanzania, surviving through the war, losing children, his daughter being saved by God through the prayer of Christians, struggling to survive, and still being blessed by God, I noticed small tears forming in his eyes. They began rolling down his face just before he quickly wiped them away. I was moved. Men in this culture absolutely do NOT cry, especially in front of others. It was like God was saying to me, “Don’t you see what I can do? I can touch hearts that seem untouchable.” Little things.

Progress on the church building! 

I wish I could tell all the stories of the little things that have stood out to me this week, kids singing songs about not wanting to be any other place than in the love of Christ, staring into a little girls big brown eyes knowing she was beautifully and wonderfully made in the image of God, or watching the sunset in prayer with God simply being overwhelmed by His love and peace, but this is already getting long enough! So I’ll go ahead and wind down. Keep the faith, stay strong, and notice the little things – they’re huge!