By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer
My granddaughter helped me bring in firewood one evening, using a cloth shopping bag to carry her load.
“I can’t carry the big pieces like you,” she said.
“That’s okay,” I told her. “It’s the little pieces that heat up the fire.”
Those little pieces are often called scrap. Discards. Misfits. They don’t stack uniformly with the nicely split logs, matching up smooth ends until the woodpile looks like an artful design.
No, but they get a big fire going in my woodstove.
Sometimes we underestimate the power of insignificance.
How small do you suppose the two fish were that a Jewish mother packed for her little boy’s lunch the day Jesus used them to feed thousands?
Why is it that the little foxes spoil the grapes?
And how tiny is the spark that kindles a conflagration? Gossip, anyone? Hearsay?
God does not ignore the seemingly insignificant, and often chooses it to fulfill His purposes.
Imagine being loved by a creator who sees value in all of His creation—even in the castoffs and misfits.
And by the way, it’s the match that starts the fire in my woodstove. The very smallest wood piece of all.Sometimes we underestimate the power of insignificance. Click To Tweet It’s the little pieces that heat up the fire. Click To Tweet
Upon her return, a fire crackled on the hearth and Blue lay as close as possible. The men stood with their backs to the warmth, feet bare of even their socks. A strange sight on a June evening, but not so foreign that it didn’t fit this surprising country with its heart-stopping beauty and sudden storms.
(c) 2018 Davalynn Spencer, all rights reserved.