On any given day I find myself learning all over again about the goodness and love of God. From my early morning chats as I join kids awaiting the bus right outside of the chapel doors, to catching up with cottage parents, to walks up in the garden to enjoy the fresh strawberries and check out the flowers. The list goes on and on and on.
I often find myself spending time with kids doing the normal, day to day, seemingly mundane life tasks. Like making an afterschool snack, doing homework before the bus comes, discussing the latest fashion trends, or playing ball outside. Conversations jump from topic to topic. New connections are made and friendships are strengthened.
In the little things.
It is in these moments that I often find the most powerful displays of the goodness and love of God:
Kids making their favorite smoothie for a snack. They insist that I (and everyone around) get at least a taste too.
Friends comforting others after hard days with a joke or a hug.
Cottage parents lovingly supporting their entire cottage in all things.
Deep faith of a child.
Just a few weeks ago I found myself sitting at a table sharing a snack and conversation with an amazing teenager. She had joined her cottage for an activity. As the activity ended and the group was fading away, she slowly sat down. We began talking. She quickly asked me to explain just what my exact role was.
After a few minutes of chatting about what I get to do and how I am the luckiest person on campus, she told me that she knew about God. She shared that she had faced some really hard things. But she knew that God loved her still. She said there was no way that she could feel the safety and love she felt now and not know God’s love was real.
Stunned by her resilience and deep faith I sat and took a deep, long, breath. I thanked her for her willingness to share. She jumped up, snack in hand, and waved goodbye before she made her way across the room to join her friends in a game.
Meeting God’s goodness in the ordinary.
I have thought about that snack time conversation over and over again. Realizing each day, as if for the first time ever, the privilege I have to meet the very face of God in the most ordinary times. It seems that it is in the mundane and often messy life moments that God’s face shines the brightest to me. Inviting me to know that God’s love knows no bounds.
Each day at least one of my tiny theologian friends stops me in my tracks. They regularly school me in God’s goodness and grace. And each time I am filled with such thanks and beg myself to stop in the mundane more often. Surely the face of God can be found even there. Especially there? Perhaps even more than I ever imagined possible.
