The Little Things
Imagine a boy meeting a girl, a very special girl. To this boy, he couldn’t tell what it was but knew there was something different about her. He wanted to get to know her; he wanted to spend every available minute and second with her. Perhaps he was too shy or perhaps he didn’t want to encroach upon her space too much, so he tried to give her little hints. He opened the door for her, offered to carry heavy loads when she seem burdened, and tried to be there for her when she needed someone to listen. To him there was no one else in the world. “Could this love exist?” He thought, “How did I get so lucky? Does she even notice me?” For it seemed that some days she didn’t even give him a second look or acknowledge he was there. Could such a creative and loving affection be innocuous to even the creator of such great love and affection? Imagine, if you could, God as this boy. He tries little things to get her attention. Even as kids, little nudges and pushes were the playground equivalent for attention. Yet, she didn’t seem to notice. She might have seemed a little flattered, but soon became distracted by what she considered to be older, more attractive boys. At least for some time, she lost interest. After realizing the self-conceited attitude that these once appealing boys had, she remembered her ‘old stand-by,’ the boy that never actually left her. Though his affection and attention never waned or wanted, she was used to the pampered treatment by the others and asked for a sign of his affection. It was in the little things his affection showed. Had she but paid more attention to the little things she might have seen his love. It was in a small, relatively little way that God became real to her. Had she but noticed the little things that led to this, perhaps more fuss would have been made. Maybe she would have taken notice. Maybe she would have listened better to what he had whispered. He tried to tell her about how much he loved her, about the plans he had for her, about how much he would sacrifice for her. He spoke until his voice was drowned by her unnerved conscious. She wasn’t sure she was ready for this, and some of what she heard had scared her. Her rejection of him cut him deep and broke his heart, and the sacrifice he spoke of was all that was left to do. There was no other choice. He loved her enough to die for her; he laid down his life for her. The talk of sacrifice seemed like a little thing, not a warning. Did he have to die for her? He had mentioned how a man might lay down his life for a friend, for someone he loved. She didn’t fully understand that it was this sacrifice, this gift that was the proof she had asked for. If only she had paid more attention to the little things, she might have seen this seemingly-little … thing coming. He had spoken also of a future. What future? Was there life after death? What comes next? The one she loved died; he had taken her place. It was still in her grief that hope came. Death could not contain such love, though it might try to restrain. Such was God’s sacrifice. His redemptive love took form to take her place and released death of its power. His gift was his place for hers. Death no longer has its power; it no longer has its sting. Its once held victory was its ultimate defeat. There is a life after death. The future he spoke of is still to come. It was the little things that spoke of this. God, still, remains real through the hope of what’s to come. There are little things to be done; preparations are to be made before the fruition of the promise. There is still the reminiscent helper that reminds her of the little things. One day when all the little things are done, there will be one more thing, one not so little, to do. The boy that once tried to get the girl’s attention will return in his fullness and glory to take an expectant maid in hand to be his eternal wife.
(This was first written down December 17, 2005 with slight revisions at different times, after mulling over the relationship God has had with the nation Israel – and later on “the church” – throughout the Old Testament and into the New Testament. Jesus Christ has been depicted as the bridegroom to the Church in the New Testament. There is so much to who Jesus is that this creative prose may only scratch the surface at the whole of truth.)