A Litany of the Little Things
I took a deep breath and listened to the old brag of my heart. I am, I am, I am.
—Sylvia Plath
Enjoy the little things in life, for one day you may look back and realize they were the big things.
—Robert Brault
Behold, I make all things new.
—Revelation 21:5
Above: There are cathedrals everywhere for those with eyes to see.
Happiness, and perhaps holiness, begins when we bow before the ordinary.
Big wonder hides in small things; the commonplace becomes a cathedral when we let it.
If we could recognize the miracle in every humble thing, our lives would be one long genuflect.
The impossibly fresh smell of a newborn.
A tiny ant hoisting a big crumb.
The invisible sorcery of electricity.
The smell of bacon promising breakfast.
Air conditioning’s cool breath on a sweltering day.
A sunflower’s languid curtsy toward the sun.
The gentle clap of stick on ice.
The first sip of morning coffee, hot and hopeful.
Sweater weather and wool’s soft embrace.
Sunlight bursting through stained glass.
A baby’s fingers closing around yours.
Light blinding the horizon above rolling waves.
Hot water falling from a showerhead.
The cool rush after a long, hot sauna.
Home greeting you with its familiar scent.
Laughing so hard that it hurts.
Rain’s first kiss on dry pavement.
Steam curling from hot soup.
The decisive click of a pen.
Fresh sheets drawn tight.
The weight of a sleeping child.
Ice cubes cracking in a cold drink.
The fridge’s midnight hymn.
A dog wagging itself whole.
Windows flung open on spring’s first warm day.
Butter slowly seeping into warm toast.
Pages turning in a beloved book.
Snow silently blanketing the earth.
Shadows waltzing on the wall.
A friend's contagious cackle.
The smoky aroma of a fire.
Breath becoming clouds in winter air.
Water swirling down a drain.
A perfectly ripe piece of fruit.
The gentle heft of a blanket.
An old song making a memory new again.
Coffee percolating in the hush of dawn.
A child's eyes widening with discovery.
Candlelight brightly winking at the dark.
Honey drizzling in golden ribbons.
Rain drumming on an old tin roof.
True luxury hides in the humblest commodities and magnificent nests within the menial.
Every commonplace is a secret sanctuary.
God is good.
Everything is a gift.
And that alone is enough.
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