“The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed . . . Though it is the smallest of all your seeds, yet when it grows, it is the largest of garden plants . . .”  – Matthew 13:31-32 

Many years ago I went through a brief spell of being between jobs.  As it was the dead of winter at the time and with time on my hands I decided to use my short sabbatical to learn how to bake bread.  With roots going back to ancient times, I figured, bread must be one of the original prepared foods and therefore not to be taken for granted.  The basic recipe, so I discovered, is quite simple, requiring only a handful of commonly available ingredients, mostly flour.  Except to prepare it is not so simple, unless one learns to master the art of adding the least of its ingredients – yeast – for it is this one tiny product in small measure that creates the magic in breadmaking, causing the dough to rise over twice its size.  Leave it out, or mishandle it, and all other efforts go to waste.

“It’s the little things,” we used to say teasingly in our family.  But Jesus wasn’t teasing. “The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed,” he explained, “which a man took and planted in his field.  Though it is the smallest of all your seeds, yet when it grows, it is the largest of garden plants and becomes a tree, so that the birds of the air come and perch in its branches.”  Likewise, “The kingdom of heaven is like yeast that a woman took and mixed into a large amount of flour until it worked all through the dough.”  In other words, in the perfect world – in the kingdom of heaven – it’s the little things. 

Recently, I was working with a client who was completely overwhelmed by her workload.  After listening for a while I finally asked her, “what little task can you give up or delegate to someone else, just one small thing, starting tomorrow?”  That is, how can she break down that overwhelming workload into bite-sized pieces, into little things?

Her issue was no different ours – yours and mine.  We all long for the big answers to the overwhelming issues we face.  We look to our big leaders to make big decisions that solve our big problems, and the brilliant scientists to develop a big vaccine to put a stop to the horrid COVID-19 virus so life will get back to normal.  And no doubt we desperately need that.  But until then, it is the little things, a tiny mustard seed we can plant, or a small measure of yeast to make the bread rise.  The vaccine may get us back to normal, but it’s the little things that move us toward what the kingdom of heaven is like.

“Therefore encourage one another and build each other up. . .” – 1 Thessalonians 5:11

My undistinguished military service was anything but influential . . . except for one obscure, humorous incident. Once while going through basic training, exhausted from a particularly grueling day we had hit the showers early before retiring to our bunks for a few precious hours of sleep. Now, I’ve never been one to sing in the shower, but for some reason that evening I was quietly entertaining myself by humming a little tune when the guy next to me overheard it and said, “Hey, man, sing that a little louder.” Next thing I knew he started singing along. Then someone else chimed in, then another. Before long there was a whole chorus of naked boot camp buddies harmonizing in the shower having the time of their lives. After that, almost every evening that same group of guys would gather around thinking up songs, snapping their fingers, laughing and singing their hearts out. Could they ever sing!

Anyone who has endured the rigors of military training will identify with the importance of developing camaraderie, of helping and encouraging each other. It’s one of the objectives, of course. And those guys who sang in the shower together became great comrades. Even though I was the instigator, I was never really part of the group after that, not because I wasn’t invited, I just didn’t have the ability to sing the way they could.

We never know when the seeds we scatter will sprout into a tree, when some kind act or encouraging word will be a spark that ignites something greater. A pleasant “thank you” to a store clerk, making room for another motorist to move into your lane, a phone call to check up on a friend, a kind word to a fellow passenger on an airplane, a warm smile, or a friendly handshake – little gestures can make a huge difference, even humming a happy tune in the shower.

Admittedly, when I was in the shower that evening I was so self-absorbed that I was oblivious to anyone who might be eavesdropping. Who would have thought that I was encouraging a whole chorus of guys to become great friends? It taught me something, though, and that is to never doubt the influence little actions can have on others, no matter how seemingly obscure. “Therefore encourage one another and build each other up . . .” In these difficult times we could use that more than ever, couldn’t we?

“Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. . . Love your neighbor as yourself.” – Matthew 22:37,39 

Occasionally I will suggest to clients to write their own epitaph. The purpose of the exercise is not to be morbid, but to encourage clients to reflect on the motives by which they live their lives. Are they investing their efforts only in their own selfish goals, or are they motivated by investing their lives in the betterment of humanity? Ultimately, how they answer that question will define the values by which they have chosen to live.

Stephen Covey said it much better when he wrote about Habit 2 in his acclaimed book, The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People. “Begin with the End in Mind,” he called it. Here’s an excerpt of how he describes this habit. “Although Habit 2 applies to many different circumstances and levels of life, the most fundamental application of ‘begin with the end in mind’ is to begin today with the image, picture, or paradigm of the end of your life as your frame of reference or the criterion by which everything else is examined. . . By keeping that end clearly in mind, you can make certain that whatever you do on any particular day does not violate the criteria you have defined as supremely important. . .”

Assume, for example, that you generally obey traffic laws, speed limits, etc. What is your motive, to avoid fines for violations, or because of your care and concern for the safety of other motorists as well as your own? Jesus addressed this issue when he was challenged by an expert in the law as to which is the greatest commandment. His familiar reply was, “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all you soul and with all your mind. This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: Love your neighbor as yourself.” In other words, he went on to explain, if you love God and love your neighbor, all the other laws and commandments simply become second nature – like obeying traffic laws out of concern for others.

It is a relevant challenge for all of us in our own day with the COVID 19 pandemic. Do we wear facemasks and social distance because it is being demanded of us? Or do we do so out of genuine care and concern for the wellbeing of others and ourselves? How each of us answers that question will define the values by which we live, and ultimately what our epitaphs might one day say. Good time to “begin with the end in mind.”

“The wind blows wherever it pleases. You hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going.” – John 3:8 

Many circumstances are simply beyond our control. They are like the wind in West Texas where I grew up. Out there it blows almost all the time, and you can complain all you want, but there’s not a darn thing you can do about it. Wind is perhaps the most elusive and least controllable of all nature’s forces. Rain, for example, cannot be controlled in its occurrence, but at least the water it produces can be captured and contained in reservoirs, and flooding can be averted much of the time by the creation of watersheds, dams, and levies. But wind can neither be captured nor its effects averted. It simply comes and goes as it wills.

Such are the uncontrollable and destructive circumstances we are facing today, most notably the COVID 19 pandemic and the resulting challenges it has created with the economy. We can complain all we want, but there’s not a darn thing we can do about it. Or is there? Although no one can control the West Texas wind, it can be used for good. Decades ago someone discovered that water can be pumped out of underground aquifers by the use of windmills, providing much needed water to thirsty livestock. In recent years that concept has advanced much further as hundreds of giant towers have been erected with huge propellers that turn gracefully in the wind generating pollution-free electricity. Billions of dollars are being invested in this new technology of using otherwise annoying uncontrollable wind for the good of mankind.

None of us, except for the scientists and medical experts of course, can stop this dreaded deadly disease. But we can slow its spread by taking the prescribed precautions, comforting those infected by it, and supporting those on the front lines battling it. Neither can we fix the economy, but we can be good citizens by contributing toward the support of our neighbors facing job loss and financial crisis. For just like in West Texas, “The wind blows wherever it pleases. You hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going.” And like the wind, we cannot control the circumstances we are facing. But we can find ways to be windmills in the midst of it, things to do for the good of mankind.

“. . .we also rejoice in our sufferings . . .” – Romans 5:3 

Anyone who has ever gone through boot camp in any branch of the military would probably agree that part of its design is to expose recruits to a certain level of suffering and misery. It so happens that exactly fifty years ago this very summer I shipped out to Fort Campbell, Kentucky for that grueling experience myself. Funny, though, after all these years I don’t remember much about the misery we suffered. What I do remember are my boot camp buddies and how we laughed together and supported each other, finding joy in our suffering rather than misery.

Recently, a gentleman we know lost his home to a devastating fire that burned it to the ground, the home he had lived in his entire life, fifty-three years he said. When he first shared the story it had just happened and he was deeply distraught as you can imagine. But several days later when we saw him his whole demeaner had changed. First of all, he explained, everyone got out safely and no one was hurt, and other family members had taken them in, so they had places to stay. Then, almost tearfully, he began to describe the outpouring of generosity from neighbors, friends, and even strangers, overwhelming kindness that he and his family would never have expected.

Fred Rogers (of “Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood” fame) told how his mother had once consoled him when he became distressed over the sufferings of other people he saw in the news. Look for the helpers, she encouraged him, look for the helpers.

Rejoicing hardly seems a natural response to suffering, does it? But I think Fred Rogers’ mom was on to something, maybe what the Apostle Paul was referring to, that the rejoicing is not on the suffering itself, but in the Helper who lives among us, and the band of helpers he sends to our aid. With the COVID-19 pandemic we are witnessing world-wide suffering the likes of which most of us have never seen, and we’re all affected by it even if we are not infected by it. Bad news dominates the media. But I wonder what we will remember one day when we look back on this time in history. Will we remember the sufferings, or will we remember the laughter and the generosity and unexpected kindnesses, the helpers who pulled us through – and the Helper who lives among us?