The immensity of little things.
When I was a child, I watched with wonder as Grandma darned. She settled into the old wicker chair, stuck a wooden egg into one of Grandpa’s worn out work socks (one that I would have thrown away) and began to stitch. She wove new threads back and forth, over and under, into that old sock until ever so slowly the hole disappeared.
A retired missionary told me about the bandages she used in Africa. United Methodist women ripped old sheets into strips, carefully rolled them into bandages, and shipped them to clinics across the ocean. Tearing, rolling, and packing by ordinary people in church basements improved lives on the other side of the world.
Sometimes the ministry we do is not very glamorous. It doesn’t make the “People Who Care” segment on the local news channel or even our Iowa Annual Conference Reporter. Yet it matters immensely. It matters to grievers who wrap themselves in the warm comfort of a prayer shawl, to children who have a peanut butter sandwich for Saturday lunch thanks to a backpack program, to homebound adults who look forward to a friendly smile along with their Meals on Wheels lunch. Around the district and annual conference, United Methodists are crocheting baby hats, sewing school bags, making laundry soap, building school desks, and collecting quarters for heifers and rabbits and water buffaloes. They do it quietly and without fanfare, week after week, year after year.
Thank you! Thank you for every patient stitch, for every nail pounded, for every step walked, for every ham sandwich assembled, for every casserole delivered, for every drop of blood donated…and the list goes on. Slowly but surely you are transforming the world.
God must delight in people like you. I know I do.