Little Things with Great Love

Most days at I try to get out and walk around our neighborhood. Our suburban town has a nature trail I sometimes walk but other days I opt for the sidewalk that takes me by rows of older homes, bits of main street, and some historical remnants of what used to be Salem.

Even with the guidance of physical distancing and wearing masks people are pretty quick to wave and say hello as we walk past each other. I’ve also noticed teenage siblings shooting hoops outside with their family pup, a parent regularly outside with their little one, and several neighbors chatting over the fences. These are relatively small interactions but now they seem so much more meaningful. Physical touch, face to face conversations, sharing a meal — our social interactions have significantly shifted from what we were used to.

I’ve taken a lot of this for granted. Now tucked away at home my days blur together and there’s little change in the day-to-day routine. I’m “homesick” for the people who have helped make this corner of Massachusetts “home” and I’m sad to have cancelled travel plans with family, my original “home.”

The following song feels especially relevant during this time. The small things I’ve overlooked for so long, are becoming the primary sources of life for me: taking great care in preparing meals, both by planning for a trip to the store and trying new recipes, selecting a new book to read, driving, being outside and waving hello to a fellow trail-walker, among other things. These are the tender mercies of my new normal.

“Oh, the deeds forgotten; oh, the works unseen
Every drink of water flowing graciously
Every tender mercy, You’re making glorious
This You have asked us
Do little things with great love
Little things with great love”

Recognizing these small-but-significant gifts of wonder and beauty has made the uncertain days a little easier.

I do recognize I have the privilege of staying home, slowing down, working remotely, and avoiding much hardship with this change of pace. There are others who have much different experiences: survivors of domestic violence, the unemployed, healthcare and essential workers, the elderly and homeless, others without access to vital resources, and those dying alone. Their suffering is not forgotten.

“In the kingdom of the heavens, no suff’ring is unknown
Each tear that falls is holy, each breaking heart a throne
There is a song of beauty on ev’ry weeping eye
For there is One who loves me
His heart, it breaks with mine”

I lament the toll this virus has had around the world and the fear it carries with it. The numbers rise each day in our county and state and find myself feeling helpless sometimes. At this point, I have no answers to offer, other than the encouragement to walk with great love in all you do.

“Oh give us ears to hear them and give us eyes that see
For there is One who loves them
I am His hands and feet

For there is One who loves them
I am His hands and feet”

Oh Lord, give us eyes to see.