The Value of Small Beginnings

@audreycfrank

Alert and ready to leap out of bed at any given second, I lay in the dark and listened. The sound of a rat running back and forth on the bedpost inches from my head had me frozen in place, afraid if I breathed he might make a detour and jump on my head. 

What on earth is he carrying in his mouth with such dedication? I wondered to myself. Back and forth, back and forth. Scratch, scramble, swoosh, slip, patter-patter-patter over my head. Again. And again. He was one busy rat.

All of my senses were completely trained upon his every move. I was trying very hard not to scream. It did not help that my husband slept squished up next to me in the narrow makeshift bed, oblivious to the not-so-tiny terrorist just inches away from us.

Turning my head slowly upward, I looked at the rascally rodent. For an instant, he seemed to pause and peer right into my eyes. In his sharp little fangs he was holding a single kernel of precious corn. 

Just as abruptly as he had stopped, he was on his way again. I posed no threat to him and he had important work to do.

That tiny kernel of corn was annoying and unimportant to me in light of my need for sleep. But to the rat and his family, not to mention our host family in this remote Africa village, the seeds were paramount to survival.

As honored guests, we had been given a bed in the driest, most protected dwelling on the small compound: the seed shed. What our hosts might not have realized was that it was also a hub of nighttime activity as the rats made off with precious seeds they had carefully collected and stored for the next season’s planting and harvest. 

Every creature depends on small beginnings.

Seeds, small though they were, held the future for the agrarian tribe with which we lived in the bush of Africa. The survival of entire clans depended on those tiny nuggets of hope. Each one represented a small beginning, and every kernel was important to life.

I had much time to ponder the importance of small beginnings during my years among those humble farmers. 

Each day began with the small light of hope as women and children carried vessels of every size to the watering hole, trusting there would be enough water to share.

Each evening began with the small sound of one voice, setting the rhythm for the entire village to join in a chorus of vibrant, pulsating song while dinner fires were stoked and shepherd boys and girls returned from a long day in the hot sun.

Each dwelling began with one small drop of rain. The rain turned the rock-hard African ground to mud, forming sticky red clay. The clay would then be gathered in fistfuls and thrown onto hand-woven lattices, creating four walls to provide shelter for entire families.

I no longer live in a mud hut with a thatched front porch. My water flows clear and clean from an intricate system of pipes deep below the earth. No shepherd boys appear at my dinner table, striking up songs they have mastered alone on the hills. But I carry with me still the lesson of small beginnings, learned long ago among a humble people who understood hope and patience.

I have learned that the greatest works in life start humble and small. Many involve private, quiet choices to obey the Lord and walk in trust, one step at a time. Hope is the rain that soaks the soil of obedience and it is in the smallness of obedience that greatness is born. 

What are you beginning this new year? What are you waiting to begin? What makes you falter, hesitate?

Is there a beginning in your life that seems too small to be valuable? 

No #beginning is too small in God's eyes. He rejoices to see the work begin. #NewYear #2019 Click To Tweet

The New Year is nearly upon us. Go for a walk today and find a seed. Reflect on the greatness of the trees that all began small and hidden in the dark earth.

Bring your seed beginning to God and watch his delight as you begin the work with Him.