Select Page

ON FEELING SMALL

There’s small and then there’s small.

There’s the woot-woot kind of small when you find your changed lifestyle, aka eating habits and gym visits have paid off and you slink and slither into a smaller dress size. Sigh………

There’s the overwhelmed kind of small when you stand overlooking the Grand Canyon. Or a spectacular sunrise or sunset. God’s hand painting the skies.

Then there’s the “Other” kind of small. Yes, “that” kind of small.

Nowadays, the Good Lord does not let me off lightly.

No Sir, missteps linger in my mind. Nip at my heels. I cringe at the memory of a petty remark I’d made.

It was on a morning like this. I’m tucked into a chair, scribbling away when the Captain walks in and asks,

“What are you doing?

I know he’s being nice. I know it’s a conversational gambit. I know he knows what I’m doing.

I should’ve blown him a kiss and carried on.

Instead the imp in me opened my mouth and said,

“What does it look like?”

Snarky, snotty, unkind, unneccesary.

“Well, maybe you’re making a list and checking it twice,” he replies, still keeping up morning conversation.

I didn’t even answer. Smug in my irritable self-satisfied cocoon.

The nagging in my right ear started.

  • “That wasn’t kind.”

  • “Why did you say that?”

  • “He was only being nice.”

  • “Are you proud of yourself?”

Incessant chatter. Until, a couple of hours later while walking on the beach, I apologized.

He didn’t say anything. Maybe my earlier bitchiness had meant nothing to him.

Which actually is worse! Does it mean I’m snarky so often that it’s my normal? 

No, the memory lingers.  A constant reminder to think before I open my mouth.

And I feel small.

Cyber Hugs and Blessings All.

 

Oh Lord my God
When I in awesome wonder
Consider all the worlds
Thy hands have made
I see the stars
I hear the rolling thunder
Thy power throughout
The universe displayed

Then sings my soul
My Savior, God, to Thee
How great thou art
How great thou art
Then sings my soul
My Savior, God, to Thee
How great Thou art
How great Thou art

And when I think of God,
His son not sparing,
Sent Him to die,
I scarce can take it in;
That on the cross, my burden
gladly bearing He bled and died
to take away my sin

Then sings my soul
My Savior, God, to Thee
How great thou art
How great thou art
Then sings my soul
My Savior, God, to Thee
How great Thou art
How great Thou art

When Christ shall come
With shout of acclamation
And take me home
What joy shall fill my heart
Then I shall bow
With humble adoration
And then proclaim My God
How great Thou art

Then sings my soul
My Savior, God, to Thee
How great Thou art
How great Thou art
Then sings my soul
My Savior, God, to Thee
How great Thou art
How great Thou art

How great Thou art
How great Thou art

Main photo Photo by Cara Fuller on Unsplash  

Get in Contact with Ida