Start with the small stuff

An often repeated story from an unknown author tells of a young boy who was so upset with his parents that he decided to run away from home. He packed two cans of root beer and two twinkies into his knapsack and he left the house and started walking. He walked to the end of his street, and toward the center of town. Every step of the way he muttered to himself about how angry he was, about how unfair his parents had been, and about how he would never go back. He walked and walked. By the time he made it to the park, he was thinking less about how upset he was and more about how hungry he felt, so he sat down on a bench and opened his backpack.

There was an elderly woman sitting on the bench next to him as he opened one of the twinkies and started eating. Without saying a word, he offered the second twinkie to her. She smiled at the young boy and took it from him. When he opened the first can of root beer, again, without saying a word he offered the woman the other one. She gave him another huge smile and took the second can of root beer. The two of them sat there in silence, together on that bench in the park, eating the twinkies and drinking the root beer. When the little boy had finished his twinkie and his root beer, the little boy wasn’t muttering to himself anymore, he wasn’t as angry as he had been, and now, he didn’t know what else to do, so he got up and decided to walk back home. He took a few steps and started to leave, but then stopped, turned around and gave the woman on the bench a hug. She smiled at him once more.

When he walked in the door of his house and went into the kitchen, his mother couldn’t help but notice that this wasn’t the same angry boy who had stormed out of the house earlier that day. “What’s gotten into you?” she asked. “I just met God in the park,” the little boy said, and before his mother could say a single word, he added “and she’s got the nicest smile I’ve ever seen!”

Later that day, across town, when the elderly woman’s son stopped by her house to say hello, he noticed that she seemed to be in an especially good mood. “What’s gotten into you?” he asked. “I just met God in the park,” the elderly woman said, and before her son could say a single word, she added “and he’s a lot younger than I thought he would be!”

Whenever we meet God, we’re never the same afterward. Problems seem less difficult to bear. Something that at one time seemed insurmountable, now seems manageable. Grudges that seemed to be permanently wedged into our hearts now seem to be loosened, and we’re capable of un-wedging them and even letting them go. The places in life that seemed lifeless, now seem to blossom with new life.

I think this is what Jesus is getting at in Matthew 10:40-42, as he begins to conclude a long message to his followers. In his words to them, he’s been preparing them to enter the world and bring his compassion, his healing, and his forgiveness to people who desperately need it. These two verses are the last words he says to them before they go:

“We are intimately linked in this harvest work…this is a large work that I’ve called you into, but don’t be overwhelmed by it…start small. Give a cool cup of water to someone who is thirsty, for instance.” (10:40-42 The Message)

Start small. A twinkie and a root beer can lead to an unexpected encounter with God. A phone call and a reassuring word could open up the lines directly to God’s heart. A cup of cool water may not seem like much to you, but to the person dying of thirst it could mean salvation.

We are linked together in this business that God has invited us into. When you open the door to welcome someone new, God gets to come inside with them. When you share a word of forgiveness with someone, God reminds you of how many times he’s forgiven you. When you share what you have, even down to something simple: a twinkie and a root-beer, a cup of cool water, God reminds you of how abundant he’s made your life…that you are comfortable and you have enough to share. The smile you get in return, may at the end of the day turn out to be something priceless…something that changes everything.

There’s another story that gets told, about another boy who left home. This one takes place in a small town in Spain. One evening a man named Jorge had a bitter argument with his young son Paco. The next day Jorge discovered that Paco's bed was empty--he had run away from home.
Overcome with remorse, Jorge searched his soul and realized that his son was more important to him than anything else. He wished he could go back and take back all the things he had said and the way he had said them. He found that more than anything, he wanted to start over. Jorge went to a well-known store in the center of the town and posted a large sign that read, "Paco, come home, I love you. Meet me here tomorrow morning."

The next morning Jorge went to the store, where he found no less than seven young boys named Paco who also run away from home. They were all answering the call for love, each hoping it was his dad inviting him home with open arms.

Sometimes, when we’re angry, we don’t stop walking when we get to the park, and we don’t post the invitation for reconciliation and forgiveness. Instead, we keep trudging through life, muttering on about how angry we are, and about how many times the world has wronged us, and about how unfairly we’ve been treated, and how we’ll never go back. Too often in life, we sit at home and wait, too stubborn to go out and make things right, too stubborn to forgive, too stubborn to welcome the people we’ve disagreed with back into our life. When we choose these paths, in the end, we lose out. We miss the smile from God’s own face. We miss the embrace that washes away all the regret, that seals the reconciliation, that re-solidifies the love.

The Bible is full of situations where the people that God has created fall short of what God had hoped for them. Our human story is filled with these same things. The times when we’ve walked out on God to try to carve our own path. The times when we’ve shut God out of our lives, not content to share our space with him. The Bible communicates the pain God feels when these things happen. It’s no different when they happen in our life. God feels the pain.

In the end, though, when God faces these things, God chooses the path of love. God chooses to welcome us back into His loving arms. God chooses to give us the cool waters that quench our thirst for forgiveness and keep us in relationship with him. When God does this, it isn’t with something simple like two twinkies and a couple of cans of root beer. God doesn’t repair the relationship with a hand-written note. God doesn’t just sit down with us over a cup of cool water.
Instead, God does something that costs a great deal. In fact, it costs him everything he loves most. Jesus himself, the only Son God has, repairs the relationship with his own broken body, he extends the forgiveness with his own outstretched arms, he welcomes us into God’s love forever by welcoming the pain and the rejection of the cross into his own life. In the end, it kills him to fix the places where our relationship with God has become broken. Somehow, it makes the gift that much greater, it’s like what Paul writes: “God’s gift is real life, eternal life, delivered by Jesus.” (Romans 6:23 The Message)

God does the large work of forgiving you so that you can do the small work of getting to know him by offering what he’s given you to others: forgiveness and twinkies, cups of cool water and words of deep forgiveness, messages of hope through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus and hand-written letters of hope for broken relationships. Who might need to find God’s face in your smile this week? Who might hunger for grace and find it in the first bite of that twinkie that you share? Who could thirst for acceptance and taste it in the cool water you pour for them? Who might need to read the words “Please forgive me” as only you can write them? You won’t how it will reach them, or you, unless you share what you’ve got, write the note, or offer the cup to that person. It’s a large work that we’ve been called into. It doesn’t have to overwhelm us if we start with the small stuff.