Such a small creature, a tiny little thing had been my daughter-in-law’s constant companion while she toiled at unyielding, winter-hard ground. Pausing from her labours, she would smile to see him perched close by, before attending to her garden again with renewed gusto.

As spring segues into summer, days lengthen and myriad feathered friends come to the bird feeder, this faithful little robin is still present, hopping to and fro with an inner felicity born of knowing its place in the scheme of things.

He doesn’t seek attention or strive for prominence. He’s just happily going about his own sweet thing: gathering, gleaning, feeding, singing and celebrating life.

I wonder if we are so easily pleased with small, if we can celebrate seasons where God calls us to be still, to be small, labouring behind the scenes on our own (often challenging) plot—the fertile garden of the soul, where few know we are secretly tending God-sized dreams within our hearts?

Maybe we long for significance, ache to be seen, to have worth and value in the eyes of others, for our voice to be heard. Or we could be prayerfully cultivating things only God sees and knows about, while He works within our stilled, surrendered soul.

As I watched the robin at play in the warmth of sun’s rays, I saw his shadow extending beyond his petite frame. It loomed larger than he was. Likewise, as we seek to serve God and potter faithfully through our days, we are casting a holy shadow larger than ourselves, as He shines in and through us.

Our lives may feel small, insignificant, our work endless and unrewarding, but if we were given eyes to see how God sees things, what then? …

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