Early this morning, before the chatter and patter of little girls and the swish and push of backpacks and coats, I read this quote:
"Do everything, even the insignificant things, in a significant way." I'm reading an ancient little devotional by E. Stanley Jones, and his words hit me stronger than the aroma of the Dunkin' Donuts coffee I have brewing behind my back as I write.
As I ask God to show me how to do this--how to make each moment truly significant--I'm interrupted by the purrs and meows of hungry kitties. I stoop down to feed them, and as they swirl about my feet like I'm within some tornado of fur, I pause and thank God for these furry friends. I thank Him for One-Eyed Jack and all I've learned. I thank him for the companionship these faithful cats provide as a refuge for little girls.
It becomes a simple moment of worship right there by the cat food bowls.
I turn back to my question, and I already know the answer.
I infuse each moment with a thankful heart and invite the glory of God in. I want to amplify each moment like that. I want to fold laundry and worship. I want to empty this dishwasher and encounter God's glory.
I want those moments to be as powerful and symbolic as when I put my American flag out each day. I stand on the porch as the sun rises, and I tell the girls how thankful we are to be citizens of a great nation. I remember my friend Charity's brother who died in Iraq. I ask God to protect our soldiers and to help my family honor their sacrifice. I make a ridiculous bugle call sound with my mouth as if I'm raising a flag (I really do this, and it's completely ridiculous, but it's how I sanctify the moment).
I'm moving forward today into a thousand insignificant tasks that now have monumental meaning. I'm sanctifying mundane moments.
Living with flair means I do everything in a significant way.
Journal: How can I empty my dishwasher in a significant way?